Distraction
by fire mystic
Summary: It starts with a mission gone wrong. Aya wants to know why, Yohji has the answer, and it all spirals out from there. Aya/Yohji.
1. Distraction

_I'm telling you! It's GOT to be the red hair! _

_Very simple, straightforward glimpse into Aya trying to find out how a mission went wrong._

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Distraction

"Get out."

The expressions of shock on Omi and Ken's faces were almost comical.

"Aya…" Omi pitched his tone low, trying to sooth.

"Don't you have a mission report to prepare?"

"I…Yes, but I don't think it's a good idea to…"

"To what? Leave us alone? Don't worry. I won't kill him."

Omi hesitated, looking to Yohji, who was leaning against a wall, eyes closed, carefully avoiding looking at anyone. He rolled his shoulders, letting his chin drop so all Omi could see was the top of his blonde hair.

"It's okay, Omi, Ken. I'll be fine. Give us a minute."

There were soft rustling sounds and the clicking of the door.

"You didn't have to be so rude to them, Aya."

Aya pointedly ignored him.

"What the hell happened out there, Kudou?"

Yohji pushed away from the wall and went to fold his long frame onto the edge of the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands and releasing a long drawn-out sigh.

"I'm sorry, Aya. It was my fault."

"We already knew that. What I want to know is what happened."

He saw Yohji flinch at his words. What was wrong with the man? Yohji had his problems, but it wasn't like him to drop the ball on a mission. He should have been there to back Aya up, but Yoji had been late to the party, and Aya had been hard pressed to carry the battle on his own. More puzzling was when Yohji finally did join the battle. He had been like a madman, mercilessly dispensing with the final assailant who had been threatening to wear Aya down completely.

"I said I was sorry, Aya. Isn't that enough?"

"No. It's not good enough." He waited, unmoving. As he hovered over the man, he was sure that Yoji could feel the weight of his glare through the top of his head. He refused to let it drop. If Yohji wanted to risk his own safety on a mission, that was one problem, but risking others on the team was another matter entirely.

Yohji's shoulders shook; what the hell did Yoji have to be angry about?

"I got distracted, Aya. I was supposed to back you up, and I wasn't fast enough. I don't even want to think about what could have happened. It won't happen again. Now can we drop it?"

Aya was silent. Distracted? There was something going on here besides Yohji just being careless. There was only one thing, one person, which could have distracted Yohji during a mission.

Aya softened, but only a tiny bit. "You've got to let go of it, Yohji. You can't let what happened with Asuka keep messing you up."

Yohji threw himself back against the couch, hands remaining firmly in place over his face. He was not getting into this with Aya. He had been working out his demons, and had slowly come to terms with them, enough to have moved on, but he hadn't talked about it with any of the team. Maybe it was better that they thought the memory of Asuka was still his greatest distraction. At least, he thought, better than knowing the truth.

"That's not what distracted me, Aya." He dropped his hands and faced Aya's death glare, which had returned in full force. "I won't let it happen again. Can we just leave it at that?"

"You're such a bastard, Kudou." Aya's voice dripped with as much venom as showed in his eyes.

"Huh?" Total confusion flooded Yohji's face. He knew Aya was angry, and he had every right to be, but this new tone sounded so much more personal. "What are you talking about, Aya?"

"Who is it, Kudou?" He hissed.

"Aya, what…"

"You know. The girl. The new plaything. Whatever you want to call her. You know; the one who distracted you tonight and nearly got me cut up. Who is it?"

"Aya…" There was no mistaking the warning in Yohji's voice. He did not want to get any further into this with the angry man.

"No. I was the one who almost got cut up. I think that entitles me to know. Tell me."

It was suddenly too hot, too confining in the room, and Yohji couldn't drag enough air into his lungs. He stood up, forcing his body to move, even though he felt as if he were caught in the slow motion of nightmares. His hand finally touched the door knob, and he could almost taste the freedom that lay beyond the door, free of any explanation.

"Tell me, Yohji. Who was it?"

He couldn't do it. He willed his hand to turn the knob, and it wouldn't do it. He was going to have to face this, and his body, his mind wasn't going to let him avoid it any longer. Hand resting on the knob, he turned his head, leaving Aya with only the profile of his face.

"Do you really want to know, Aya?"

Aya's voice seethed his anger. "I can't believe you let one of those little girls distract…"

The lump of fear that lived in Yohji's gut shifted from fear of facing the truth to fear of facing the consequences.

"It was you, Aya. I was thinking about you."

He swept through the door, trembling as it clicked closed behind him.


	2. The Edge of a Sword

_After considering it, I've decided to continue this fic. I'm in the mood to play with the boys from Weiss, well, at least two of them. I hope I don't get too far ooc on any of them. _

_The rating for now remains T, although at some point, knowing the way my mind works, it will slide into M. I'll change it when that time comes._

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

The Edge of a Sword

Yohji was staring at the screen, actually paying attention for once.

Aya was staring, stony faced, at the floor.

Omi and Ken were trying to act as if everything was perfectly normal, but failing miserably.

Something was definitely wrong. And everyone in the room knew it, including Manx, who was standing on the stairs silently observing the members of Weiss. She had known the moment she arrived that there was a problem; Yohji hadn't even attempted his usual flirtation with her.

Omi and Ken had been aware of it far longer. The atmosphere in the house had been arctic since their last mission a week before. Although Aya and Yohji had words that night, there hadn't been a word spoken between them since, and it was painfully obvious they were avoiding each other. This was the first time since that night that Yohji and Aya had been in the same room for more than a few seconds. Ken and Omi had talked about it and decided to leave it alone and let their teammates work it out.

Now they were wondering how they were going to complete a mission with two members who refused to be civil with each other.

They accepted the mission, of course, and as soon as the lights came up, Aya was gone before Manx had a chance to inquire after the cause of the tension. She looked to Yohji, who shook his head and brushed past her without a second glance, raising a much needed cigarette to his lips as he ascended the stairs. As last resort, she blocked the stairs to keep Omi and Ken from escaping as well.

"What is going on around here?"

Ken threw himself down on the couch, looking at a file. He glanced over the top edge of it. "Don't look at me. I have no idea."

Omi turned from where he was sitting in front of the computer. "Aya and Yohji seem to have had a disagreement. They're still working it out."

"Will this affect the mission?"

Omi shook his head. "The mission will be a success." He wished he felt as sure as he sounded.

Yohji slammed his bedroom door behind him and sat down on the edge of his bed, knees bouncing as his feet tapped the floor. He sucked smoke into his lungs, waiting, hoping for the nicotine to finally calm him. It wasn't working. It hadn't worked all week. He had been on edge since his admission to Aya, and nothing was helping. He hadn't known what to expect, but the dead silence was unbearable.

He stubbed out the cigarette, ran his fingers through his hair, and stood up with a deep sigh. This was silly. They had a mission now. They had to work together. He had to make sure that was at least possible.

He hesitated once more before knocking lightly on Aya's door. There was a long pause before the door swung open. Pale light filtered past Aya from within the room creating the effect of a red halo around his head. Yohji had time to notice that his hair was uncharacteristically rumpled, and then the door was closing again in his face.

He raised his hand to knock again, and then thought better of it. Irritating Aya further could mean bodily damage. Maybe it would be better to wait till morning before trying again.

He had taken three steps down the hall when he heard the door open again. When he turned, Aya was leaning against the door jam, arms crossed over his chest.

"What do you want, Kudou?"

His tone was cold, hostile. It was a tone Yohji was used to and had never taken personally before. Aya was like this with everyone. Lately, though, Yohji had become much more sensitive it.

"Are we going to be able to work together, Aya?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you can stay focused or not."

Yohji nodded. "I told you it wouldn't happen again."

The door was already closed.

* * *

Back to the brick wall, Aya waited patiently for his team members to flush out their target. He grimaced in an effort to concentrate, forcing the mission to be first and foremost in his mind. Now was not the time to be thinking about…

Shadowed figures rounded the corner, and Aya shifted smoothly into action. The first figure never had a chance to see Aya before the katana cut him down. Aya spun back from the second figure, bringing the sword around, but this target had seen him in time to evade him, a gun appearing in his hand. He shot wildly, missing Aya, and then, as quickly as the gun had appeared, it slipped away, accompanied by a flash of silver, and his target was open, vulnerable, his arm suspended, puppet-like, above his head. As surprised as he was by the turn of events, Aya wasted no time dispatching the target. Clearing the area with a wary glance, his gaze then turned toward the venting pipe off to his right, catching sight of the tall, lithe form he knew would be there. Yohji stepped out of his cloak of shadow, meeting Aya's gaze, holding it a moment longer than necessary before turning and stalking away into the dark.

* * *

Maybe he was reading into things. Maybe he had misunderstood Yohji.

The mission went off without a hitch. Yohji came through exactly as planned, and, although Aya worried about it the entire night, there was no indication of Yohji being distracted. In fact, Yohji made a special effort toward the end of the mission to make sure Aya didn't need that extra bit of backup.

Upon their return, Yohji had gone straight to bed, as did Ken, and Omi had gone to complete the mission report. Aya was left in the kitchen, brooding over a cup of tea, pondering the possibilities.

Since the night of Yohji's apology, Yohji hadn't said another word to Aya other than to confirm their ability to work on the mission together. He avoided Aya whenever possible, leaving the room whenever he found Aya there, even avoiding eye contact.

Finding Yohji at his door that night had been a complete surprise.

Aya stared into his tea, searching for an explanation for Yohji's actions, but coming up completely blank.

What was it about him that had distracted Yohji in the first place?

What was that in Yohji's expression when their eyes had met?

Up in his room, Yohji lay awake staring at the ceiling.

Why had Aya pushed so hard for an explanation?

Why, oh why, had he told the truth?

Something had to give soon. He wasn't sure what he had expected from Aya, but this was a frigid side to him Yohji had never thought to see. As distant as Aya usually was, he had closed the shutters even further. Yohji had spent the week avoiding him, trying not to make things more uncomfortable than they already were while waiting for the other shoe to drop. Could Aya really go on this way? Yohji wasn't sure, but he knew he couldn't take the suspended tension much longer, and if it didn't break soon, somehow, he was going to have to force the issue.


	3. Rainy Day

_A couple of small things: I don't know if the flower shop had a gate on it or not, and I didn't have time to check, but I figured it a minor detail. Also, I realize that there are many fragmented sentences that convey thoughts of the characters. That's the way they flowed when I wrote them, and that's the way I left them. If it's really annoying, let me know, and I'll see what I can do._

_Thank you for the reviews and the encouragement. Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Rainy Day

Rain was always bad for business, and it wasn't just raining, it was pouring. There had been a handful of customers earlier in the day, but it had died down to nothing as the afternoon wore on. Yohji leaned against the counter staring out at the sheets of water coming down. There was an ache in his chest, an emptiness within that he couldn't assuage, and with every day that passed, the emptiness grew, threatening him with the feeling that he might explode with it. The weather was not helping.

Another week had passed; a week without word from Kritiker, without missions, and without a way for him to relieve at least some bit of stress. It had also been another week suffering Aya's silence.

To make matters worse, it was Ken's day off, and when it became obvious there wouldn't be many customers, Omi had begged out of working in the flower shop in favor of working on some paperwork he needed to catch up on. So here he was, stuck alone with silent Aya. He took a chance at glancing at the other man, who was busying himself with trimming some of the small potted plants. He had never intentionally tried to observe Aya; he didn't have to. They were together a great deal of the time. Aya was just…there. But lately, despite his best efforts, his eyes were consistently drawn to him.

Yohji shifted, self-conscious, willing himself to maintain the silence, but unable to.

"Hey Aya." Trying to sound normal, casual. "What do you say we close early today. It's not like we're going to lose any business with this weather."

Aya glanced back at him before going right back to his plants.

"You have a date waiting on you, Kudou?" Dripping with sarcasm.

Date. It occurred to Yohji that although he had gone out in the past couple of weeks, he hadn't had a real date in a month and hadn't bothered picking anyone up. Aya wouldn't know that, though. Aya would only be aware of him arriving home at some early morning hour, and of course he would assume the worst. These thoughts kept Yohji from his usual snappy reply.

"Actually, no. I was planning on staying in tonight and catching up on some rest."

If he hadn't been watching, he wouldn't have caught the disbelieving glance.

"You have any plans?" Just trying to make conversation.

Aya's head snapped around. He carefully replaced the plant he had been working on, walked out of the shop and pulled the gate, locking it. Coming back in, he locked the door behind him.

"Are you satisfied?" He asked as he stalked past Yohji.

Their eyes met, and Aya stopped short, eyes widening. For the first time in a week, Yohji refused to look away, and Aya finally stormed past him through the back of the shop.

"No, Aya. I'm not." He sighed to the empty room.

* * *

Yohji stubbed out another cigarette and resumed his pacing. He had paced for what seemed like hours now, but he couldn't stay still. He wondered if this is what an animal in a cage felt like. It was still raining; he could hear it, a vague, persistent drone in the background except for when a change in the wind brought it more directly into his window, where it would ping sharply for a few minutes before shifting away again.

He knew Aya was in the house, somewhere, doing whatever it was Aya did when he locked himself behind closed doors. Yohji was aware of him as if he were there in the room with him, even though there hadn't been any hint of him in the house, not even the closing of a door. Aya had left the flower shop, beating a hasty retreat to his room, where he had remained as far as Yohji was aware.

What did Aya do when he was alone? Yohji knew he liked to read, and he suspected that Aya could sit, unmoving for hours, doing nothing but brooding. The thought made Yohji want to storm in and shake Aya up. He decided to make a compromise of it. He wouldn't storm in, but he wouldn't, couldn't, let Aya off so easy.

He checked the hall as he opened the door, then chuckled at his caution. "This isn't a mission, for heaven's sake" he muttered as he pulled himself together and took the few short steps down the hall and knocked.

"Come in."

Well, that was a change. Aya usually asked who it was at the least. Maybe he assumed it was Omi, or Ken checking in after his day off. Yohji opened the door, and was surprised to find the room very dim. At first he didn't see Aya, and then he made out his form curled up in the plush chair he knew Aya liked so much, especially for reading. There was no book in sight, however. Aya's face was drawn, his hair tousled, his eyes clouded slightly. He looked as if he had been sleeping.

"I'm going down the the kitchen to dig up some food. You want something?"

There. Simple. Normal. Just a polite offering to someone he shared a house with.

Aya blinked slowly, and then closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the cushioning of the chair.

"That would be nice, Yohji. Thank you."

He didn't argue, didn't make any retaliatory comment. He just accepted the offer. Maybe this was progress. The thought brought the tiniest measure of relief to that emptiness Yohji was being consumed by.

"You okay, Aya?"

"Just a headache."

Yohji made sure, when he brought Aya's food up, that there were two aspirins on the tray next to the bottle of water.


	4. A Fine Line

_Yes, I said it would eventually rate an M, and it's headed in that direction, so I have changed the rating. But really, I was nothing but a tease in this chapter._

_My proof-reader cringes at the thought of yaoi and is not very knowledgable about Weiss Kreuz, but he assures me that at least the story is flowing. I hope he's right._

_Thanks for the reviews and encouragement. Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

A Fine Line

Yohji was lying on his bed when Aya walked into the room and sat on the edge of the mattress. He didn't say or do anything. He stared at the floor, head hanging, profile hidden beneath the fall of crimson hair. Yohji finally reached out, long fingers grasping Aya's shoulder as if to shake him, and when Aya didn't move under his touch, his hand slid down the pale flesh of his upper arm, fingers kneading lightly into the solid muscles that lay beneath that skin. He moved slowly, edging forward to sit behind Aya, carefully placing one leg on each side of him so Aya could lean back into his chest. Aya's moved his hands then, lifting them from clutching the sheets on the bed to clutching Yohji's knees. Yohji ran his hands down both arms now, a soothing gesture, then buried his face in the silken fall of hair along the back of Aya's neck. Aya startled at first, but didn't move away, instead arching his neck to give Yohji access to kiss at the tender skin there, relaxing his body back into Yohji, who wrapped him tightly in his embrace, pressing his body, shoulders to groin, against Aya's back as he pulled Aya to him.

Yohji sat up suddenly in bed, coming awake with a gasp, his body trembling, skin tingling. He was so convinced that the dream was real, he actually turned, checking to make sure he was really alone. He shifted in his bed, and then lifted the sheet that had wrapped around him to confirm what he could already feel, but couldn't believe. "No." He denied it even with the evidence before him. It was a dream, a dream in which they hadn't even done much of anything, and he was floored by his reaction to it. He hadn't had a wet dream in…he couldn't even remember the last time. Rubbing his hands over his face, he wondered how he was going to function around Aya now.

Showered and shaved, he made his way down to the laundry room with his sheets and shoved them in the washer. It would not do to have to explain any of this to any of his teammates. Setting the washer, he headed for the kitchen, finding a bowl and spoon set out for him with his favorite cereal beside it. Damn. What was that all about? Next to it was a note. "Make sure you clean up after yourself." Not signed, but definitely Aya's handwriting. Was this his idea of paying Yohji back for dinner the night before? Yohji couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as he considered the effort this small gesture must have been for Aya.

He made sure to wash the bowl and spoon when he was done, even going so far as to dry them and put them away.

He wandered casually into the shop, making it in time for the doors to open and came face to face with Aya.

He pushed down the immediate mental replay of his dream, and focused on making Aya uncomfortable instead.

"Hey Aya. Thanks."

"For what?"

"Well, you know, setting breakfast out for me."

"Hn. It didn't keep you from being late."

Yohji flashed his most winning smile. "Well, no. After all, I had to make sure I got my beauty sleep."

Aya pushed past him and busied himself picking flowers for an arrangement.

It was close to noon when Manx arrived, fawning over the flowers until the few customers that were in the shop had made their purchases and left. Leaving an 'out to lunch' sign hanging on the door, they headed down the stairs to receive their new mission. Yohji, taking a seat on the couch, had a hard time hiding his shock when Aya sat beside him. Had Aya ever sat down for a mission briefing before? He couldn't remember, but the inconsistency didn't get past Manx, either.

"I take it you two have resolved whatever issue you were having."

Aya didn't even respond. Yohji flashed a bright smile. "C'mon Manx. I'm way too charming to stay angry at."

She returned his smile, but raised her brows at him. "And what about Aya? Why wouldn't you be able to stay mad at him?"

"Aya?" The response running through his mind was dangerous ground, but there was nothing like goading Aya. So he let it slip…"Aya's just too damn sexy."

If looks could kill. Yohji wished he had a camera. Even angry, there was something about Aya that made his breath catch, even added that extra thrill.

Aya immediately stood and moved away. Omi gasped, bringing Yohji's attention around to find an expression of shocked disbelief on Omi's face, which would have made sense except for the blush that crept up his face…and the glance at Ken. Yohji's eyes followed to catch Ken in the process of throwing a pillow at him, which he caught in midair and moved just in time to see Ken turn back and wink at Omi.

Huh? What had he just seen? Ken turned back to him and lifted his eyebrows at Yohji, a silent acknowledgment, followed by a slow wink.

Go figure.

"Gentlemen." Manx's voice cut through the moment. "If you please."

She dimmed the lights and the mission was relayed to them: An export company owned and operated by four businessmen who had been bonded since college. The export company, as successful as it was, was a cover for an even more lucrative business. Slave trading, both in women and children. The four businessmen, though close, met only once a year as a foursome, always in a highly secretive location, and Kritiker had managed to find out where that meeting would be held.

There mission was easy. Get in. Eliminate them. Get out.

They infiltrated the exclusive hotel where the meeting was set without a problem. Aya took a room that was one floor below the meeting, giving them a plausible explanation for being in the hotel. Yohji took up a position at the bar in the posh restaurant where he had found three of the business men dining, apparently waiting for their fourth partner to show up. As he glanced out the door of the bar, he caught site of Ken in a bellboy's uniform, and briefly wondered what Omi thought of a man in uniform. His thoughts were brought back into focus when he saw the man Ken was with; their fourth target. He showed him to his partners, assuring him his bags would be taken to his room, and made sure his gaze swept past Yohji as he left the room.

The targets sat for only one drink, thankfully, and Yohji let Omi know when they had left the bar before cautiously following, just another customer on his way to his room. By luck or chance, he ended up on the same elevator smiling pleasantly at all of them while he wondered what their reaction would be if he were to announce that he was one of the assassins sent to kill them. He disembarked the elevator on the floor beneath theirs, making his way to the room Aya was in. He entered the room without thinking, and before he could even get the door closed, he was pinned to the wall beside it. The door slammed shut beside him and he strained his eyes against the darkness of the room to see the man who had him pinned to the wall.

"What the fuck, Aya?"

"You should be more careful, Kudou. You didn't even check to see what you were walking into."

He tried to push Aya away, but Aya maintained the upper hand.

"Let go of me, Aya. What the hell is your problem? We're on a mission." Those words sounded strange to him, coming from his own mouth. It was Aya's job to remind him of the mission.

Aya still didn't back off.

"Why did you say that?"

"What? Say what?"

"What you said to Manx. About me."

Yohji had to think for a second, past Aya having him pressed to the wall, past Aya being so pissed about…what?"

"You mean about you being too damn sexy?"

No answer, but he felt the flex of Aya's fingers against his skin.

"Oh hell, Aya, I was just, just…" Just what? Telling the truth? Stating the obvious? "I was just teasing a bit. No harm done."

Aya let him go suddenly, thumping him back to the wall as he backed away and Yohji had just enough time to gain his balance, standing upright, and adjusting his shirt, when Aya's fist struck him in the jaw and he slammed back into the wall.

Hand going to his jaw, bracing himself against the surface at his back, biting back his anger and shock, Yohji stared at the silhouette of the very dangerous man standing before him. Aya could have killed him as easily as he had punched him, still could if he wanted to. Yohji wasn't doing a damn thing to defend himself, but Aya wasn't moving either. Anger flared, the frustration rising to an undeniable level, and, in one smooth, graceful move, Yohji pushed himself from the wall, wrapped his hands in Aya's shirt and reversed their positions, shoving the smaller man into the wall and moving in close enough so he could see his eyes even in the dim light.

For a heated moment, their eyes locked, angry sparks in both sets, Yohji wondering when Aya was going to kill him half a second before his lips crashed down on Aya's mouth.

There. That should shut him up. He forced Aya's lips apart, using the crush of their mouths to keep them apart. That should keep him from asking obvious questions. He swept his tongue into the heat of Aya's mouth. That should keep him from…

His intercom crackled at the same time Aya managed to insert his hands and one knee into the softest parts of Yohji's body, and Yohji reeled back, staggering, before Aya could do real damage.

"Aya, Yohji. We're ready to move."

One heartbeat, two, a handful, pounding far too fast in Yohji's chest. He had no doubt from the way Aya's chest heaved that his was beating just as fast, if for different reasons. He wanted to tear his gaze away, search the room for Aya's katana, find out how fast he might have to move to stay alive, but he didn't dare. Aya didn't need the katana to kill him.

He reflexively moved back when Aya stepped forward, two predators mixing it up in a strange dance. Aya passed him by, grabbing up his katana from where it was balanced by the door, and stalked out of the room, long leather coat swishing behind him. Yohji followed, still on guard, still waiting for the repercussions of his brash actions.


	5. Success and Failure

_A couple of things. This chapter was very hard. What I visualized in my head refused to work on paper. I'm so not comfortable with action sequences (well, at least not with this type of action). I still don't know that I'm completely happy with it. If it is totally off, let me know and I will take it back to the drawing board._

_Italics are Yohji's perspective while he is in and out of consciousness. _

_Ken and Omi. Yes there are little mentions of them here and there, but they will not become a main focus. It will remain a relationship that carries on in the background, and will perhaps set an example._

_Thanks for the reviews; I'm becoming addicted to them. Enjoy. _

_fire mystic_

Success and Failure

It had been a slow realization that had brought Yohji to this point, this state of constant distraction. Little things, like catching himself watching Aya eat breakfast one morning, and becoming fascinated by the movement of his lips. Glancing at the flicker of Aya's long earring, and becoming curious instead about how soft his hair would feel. Stumbling into him in the hall on his way to the bathroom one night and uncharacteristically noticing that Aya's sweatpants rode dangerously low on his hipbones.

He wanted to feel those lips pressed against his, not to mention other places. He wanted to run his fingers through that hair, test it's softness for himself. He wanted to caress his hands down those sharp hipbones, sweeping the cloth away to see what lay hidden beneath. He wanted, but he couldn't have, and it was tearing him up from the inside.

Now here he was, following Aya down the hall and into the staircase of a grand hotel, preparing for the kill, and he couldn't, for the life of him, force his eyes from the narrowness of Aya's waist beneath his coat, or how it curved over his narrow hips, and then flared to sway around his long, slender legs.

He wondered when Aya was going to tell him to stop staring at his ass. Or worse, spin around and simply kick him down the stairs.

Aya came to a stop just as he reached the door to the next floor, and, somehow, Yohji managed to come to a stop without running into him. He had to get a grip, and not on Aya. It was time for a change of tactics; a re-prioritizing of his mission goals. Yes, the bad guys had to go, but now Yohji added Aya's safety as his own personal goal. Hell, he had already done it once, on the last mission, though in his mind he had rationalized it as proving his reliability to Aya. It was a dangerous proposition, he knew, but wouldn't it be better to lose his own life protecting Aya than to lose Aya because he couldn't keep his concentration?

And, like the proverbial bolt out of the blue, it struck Yohji just how much the other man had come to mean to him.

A sharp elbow in the muscle of his upper arm brought him out of his thoughts, and he realized that he had been staring at the opposite wall. He turned to fully confront Aya's glare.

"Are you all right?" Aya's mouth moved, but no sound came out.

Yohji narrowed his own gaze and gave one nod of confirmation, slinking around Aya to take position on the other side of the door. He reached out to the push bar on the door, re-checked Aya's position, and ever so slowly sunk the bar down to eliminate any noise it might make. The door cracked open, and he visually checked the hall. Clear. He pushed the door further and Aya slipped into the hall ahead of him, giving him the all clear to follow. They rounded the corner, moving down the hall, waiting for their cue from Ken. They heard his voice, muffled behind the appointed door, and then the doorknob turned; their cue. Exiting the room as the bellboy who had just retrieved someone's luggage, Ken was now the inside man who let his fellow assassins slip into the room.

They dispersed like ghosts into the spaciousness of the luxury accommodations, a flash of steel and wire, a muffled cry, and in a matter of seconds, their four targets were down.

Exiting the room, Ken went back to the elevator. No one would question a bellboy anywhere in the hotel. Aya was already moving down the stairwell, Yohji a few seconds behind him, when a sound registered in his mind; the opening and closing of a door followed by running footsteps. He nearly cleared the door when his jacket caught on something. No, something caught on his jacket. Hands. He wheeled, the hands following and pulling the man attached to them into the stairwell with him. Security. Where had he come from? Why hadn't this been in the mission briefing? Dressed in a dark suit, a gun holstered under his arm, he reached for Yohji's neck with one hand while reaching for his gun with the other. He never had a chance. The wire flew, cutting into flesh, choking out life, but before Yohji could retrieve the wire, pain lanced through his head and darkness descended.

* * *

_The flashing of lights. Damn that hurt. And why was he so dizzy? He opened his eyes against the pain, and the world spun worse than it had before. Something was so not right. Upside down. Everything was upside down. And spinning. He mumbled something and heard someone answering as if from miles away, then it all dimmed again. A few minutes later, or maybe an hour, and he could hear voices, still distant. He was still moving, and his eyes flashed open to a world that flashed by and swirled at the same time. Gratefully, the darkness rose again, sinking him back into oblivion._

_Aya was standing over him, trailing cool fingers over the overheated skin of his face, cradling his head, his thumb brushing over his cheek. So good. He never imagined Aya could be so tender. And he looked so worried, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. It was breaking Yohji's heart. Why was Aya looking at him like that?_

"_Aya."_

_

* * *

_Omi brushed the strands of hair out of Yohji's face before lifting his head to apply a cool compress to the back of his head.

"Aya." Omi paused when Yohji muttered the name. Why would Yohji think he was Aya? Why would he think Aya would be taking care of him? Aya had refused to even come in the room since carrying Yohji into the house and depositing him on the bed.

Omi shrugged. He was probably dreaming, probably still trying to warn Aya about the guards that had followed them into the staircase. Yohji had taken the worst of it, a hard knock to the head with a collapsible baton. The security guard hadn't lived to follow through. Aya had seen to that. He then carried Yohji up the stairs to the roof-top parking garage where his car was parked and gotten them out of there, picking Ken up on the way. He had brought Yohji and Ken back, then returned to the hotel to check himself out of the room he had taken, just another businessman done with his business, and supposedly needing to catch a late flight out of town.

Omi had heard Aya return over an hour ago. He hadn't so much as asked about Yohji.

Omi curled up in the chair beside the bed, where he knew he would be spending the night. Yohji couldn't be left alone like this. He turned at a soft sound; Ken coming into the room; Ken setting a cup of tea beside him; Ken, sitting on the floor in front of the chair and reaching up behind him to take Omi's hand in his, rubbing it against his jaw before entwining their fingers and simply holding it.

"Get out."

They both whirled around where they sat. Talk about Déjà vu.

"Aya, he needs someone to stay here with him."

"I said get out."

"But Aya…"

"I'll stay. Now leave."

Ken stood cautiously, leading Omi by the hand he was still holding. "Let's go, Omi."

"Make sure you wake him up once in a while, Aya. I'm pretty sure he has a concussion. And Aya…"

Omi bit his words off as Aya's eyes slid to his, and he let Ken lead him from the room.


	6. Tender Mercies

_I've never had a concussion or a serious head injury. My knowledge of them is based on a friend's experience. I hope I caught it acurately._

_Thank you for the reviews and encouragement. It's much appreciated! Hopefully I'm making up for the short chapters by updating frequently. Trust me, the longer the chapter, the more I question my own writing, the longer it takes for me to update. Not good!_

_Enjoy. _

_fire mystic_

Tender Mercies

Nightmares, confused, dark and twisted, and he couldn't seem to swim out of them. Then, just as it seemed he would get sucked under, he would become aware of warm hands soothing along his skin, holding, comforting. There was a voice in the distance; he couldn't make out the words being spoken, but the tone, combined with the rich texture of it, called him back from the darkness of his nightmares and made him yearn for the comfort it offered.

Yohji woke unsure of how much of it was real, and how much of it was his imagination.

He was warm, and except for the excruciating throbbing that persisted in his head, he was comfortable. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was…what? Stairs, dimly lit, and something not going quite right. He opened his eyes, just barely, and even the tiny bit of light that was in the room seared his brain. He blinked a couple of times, knowing he wasn't dead; dead people, he was sure, didn't feel this kind of pain. Finally, his eyes adjusted as much as they could, and he rolled his head against the pain to look around and find out where he was.

His room. His bed. His pillow. A blanket was tucked in neatly around him, and that bit of light in the room came from a tiny lamp that now sat on his dresser.

And Aya was sleeping in the chair by the bed. No, that couldn't be right. Maybe he wasn't awake after all.

Aya was sitting in the big chair from his room, his legs curled up as they had been the night Yohji had brought him dinner. It struck Yohji that he looked remarkably like the Abyssinian he was code-named after. He had turned himself so his head was resting against the edge of the chair, one hand curled up under his chin. Yohji couldn't help but stare, for the moment forgetting his pain. The hard lines of Aya's face had softened, relaxed and worry free. Yohji could see his chest moving slowly with the deep, even rise and fall of sleep. He had never seen him look so peaceful, so beautiful. It made him ache in a way that had nothing to do with his injury.

His eyes slid closed of their own volition, feeling as if they were weighted down, and he wondered if he should just go back to sleep, but his bladder protested violently. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, pausing as vertigo threatened to lay him flat again.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Yohji squinted at him, forcing himself to focus. Aya hadn't moved, hadn't even opened his eyes. "Leave it to me," Yohji thought, "to piss him off even when he's sleeping."

Aloud to Aya, he answered simply. "Bathroom."

Aya was uncurled and by his side before he could push himself up to stand. Yohji grunted with the effort, and Aya caught him as a wave of dizziness nearly toppled him. They stood like that for a moment, Aya's arm across his chest, his other hand holding Yohji's arm.

"All right?" Aya asked.

"All right," he breathed back. While he would have paid good money to have Aya hold him, he was embarrassed by his weakness, but didn't think he would make it to the bathroom on his own. Aya didn't complain, and his expression gave nothing away. He moved with Yohji, leading him, yet letting him move as slowly as he needed, keeping a firm hold of him despite Yohji trying not to be too much of a burden.

Aya left him leaning on the sink when they got to the bathroom, giving him his privacy. A few minutes later and Yohji opened the door, a death grip on the door frame. Aya was leaning against the far wall, but came immediately to his side.

"You could have called me."

"I thought I would be okay."

For the first time Yohji could remember, he found Aya's answering grunt comforting. When they made it back to the bedroom, Aya gently lowered him into the bed, straightened his pillows and helped him lay back, then pulled the blankets up over him. Yohji took comfort in Aya's scent, in the warmth of his body. The gentle way he handled him. Tenderness was the last thing he would have expected from Aya.

He settled back in the pillows just as there was a light tap on the door. Aya went to the door, and Yohji could hear Omi's voice, a bit too high pitched with worry and nervous energy.

"I thought I heard you moving around. Is he okay? You've been waking him up, haven't you?"

"Shhh. Yes, I've been waking him up. He woke by himself a few minutes ago and needed to use the bathroom. He was dizzy, but he managed."

"Do you need any help? Can I do anything…"

"Go to bed, Omi. Everything is fine. He's sleeping now." A small white lie, but Yohji was relieved; he was in no mood for Omi at the moment. He heard the door close softly, and watched, bleary eyed, as Aya returned comfortably to his curled up position in his chair. Setting his chin on his hand again, his eyes met Yohji's and held.

"It's okay. I'm here. Go back to sleep."

Safe. It had been a long time since he felt that way. Yohji let his eyes drift closed, and sank into a deep, healing sleep.

He was over the worst of it. Each time he woke he was a bit more lucid, a bit stronger. Aya was there every time, sleeping, reading, or just sitting. He was tireless in taking care of Yohji, and made sure he was comfortable each time he returned him to the bed. He finally allowed Omi and Ken in to visit, Omi in particular being overwhelmed to find Yohji doing so well. The Chibi actually shed tears. Other than communication that was necessary, however, Aya said nothing, maintaining his silent demeanor.

Two day's later; Yohji woke to the now familiar sight of Aya sleeping in his chair.

"Aya."

His eyes opened immediately.

"Go to bed, Aya. You need to rest."

"Are you sure?"

Yohji nodded, knowing that Aya hadn't slept right in two days and was most likely in desperate need of sleep in a real bed, yet still reluctant to let him go.

"I'll be fine, Aya. Thank you for taking care of me. Now go get some real sleep."

Aya nodded once, his expression as cold and neutral as it had ever been, and left.


	7. One Step Forward

_I expected Aya to stop talking to me, damn him. But Yohji? What was his excuse? No need to worry, thoughl; they're back. Aya can't decide whether he wants to be left alone or get some answers, Yohji is slowly slipping off the deep end, and Omi is stuck in the middle. What fun!_

_Thank you all for the reviews. Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

One Step Forward…

Yohji was grateful that the negative tension with Aya had eased a bit. The feeling was short-lived.

If anything, the little bit of understanding he had hoped they had attained had gone out the door with Aya when Yohji had told him to go to bed. Aya was back to avoiding and ignoring, and knowing that he had taken care of him while he was injured made it all the more unbearable. Why had he bothered? It's not like he cared. Omi could have done it just as well, but Aya had insisted.

Yohji had told him to go get some sleep. He would have kicked himself if he had known Aya wouldn't return. Not to look in on him. Not even to ask about him. It was as if he washed his hands of it. Yohji's better. Mission accomplished.

At that point, all he needed was a bit more rest. Omi checked on him once in a while, but it was relatively smooth sailing except for his confusion about Aya's behavior. Two days passed before he managed to catch Aya sitting at the kitchen table. Yohji took a deep breath and plunged into trying to get some type of civil conversation, and possibly an explanation, out of the other man.

"Hey Aya."

"Hn."

Okay. Monosyllables. That wasn't totally unexpected of Aya. And he hadn't bolted from the room. Even better.

"I wanted to thank you."

Aya didn't glance up from the paper he was reading. "You're welcome."

Yohji pulled out a chair and sat. "Aya. We need to talk."

Aya placed the paper down on the table, eyes raking Yohji coldly as he stood up. "No. We don't." And he walked out, leaving Yohji staring at an empty chair with his hands spread before him on the table.

From that point, Aya spent most of his time either in the shop, in his room, or, mysteriously gone, and when Yohji was well enough to return to working at the flower shop, he noticed that Aya had arranged the schedule so they spent as little time on shift together as possible. Coincidence? Yohji didn't think so. The person he wanted to be close to, the person whose presence had allowed him to rest comfortably in the face of nightmares; the avoidance had become too sharp, too painfully obvious.

Omi, on the other hand, he couldn't seem to escape. Omi was full of questions, and not only about the details to complete his report for the mission. He wanted to know why Aya had insisted on taking care of him, what kind of care he had given, and if Aya had said anything to him. He would ask in the most pleasant way at the oddest times, or insinuate something to see if he could find out anything more. Yohji had caught Ken on more than one occasion shaking his head and giving Omi a warning look. Apparently he could tell Yohji was getting irritated by the questions, but Omi persisted.

"Really, Yohji. You were back on your feet much faster than I thought." He commented into the morning lull on the third day Yohji had returned. It was about the twentieth time he had said it or something similar. "Aya must have taken very good care of you. I wonder…"

Yohji snapped.

"I don't know, Omi." His voice was too loud, full of pent-up frustration and bordering on angry. "Okay? I don't know why he did it. If you want to know, maybe you should ask Aya." He slammed through the back door of the shop, throwing his apron on a workbench nearby as he went, and then through the kitchen and out the back door, a cigarette already between his lips, his hands trembling slightly as he lit it.

He collapsed to sit with his back to the wall, resting his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands as he sucked soothing nicotine into his lungs.

"You shouldn't take this out on Omi."

Shit! His reflexes jumped violently at the unexpected words. He turned, have ready to defend himself, to find Aya standing with his back to the now closed door. Damn, but he was getting slow, not to mention careless. How had Aya snuck up on him so easily?

"Where the hell did you come from?"

"You walked right past me in the kitchen." Didn't that drive home how distracted he had been?

"What do you want, Aya?"

"You shouldn't take this out on Omi." He repeated.

Yohji grunted, thinking of the irony that it was Aya saying this to him, the same Aya, who had to be reminded at every turn not to be rude to people. "Maybe you should go and explain a few things to him, then, Aya, because I certainly don't have the answers he's looking for."

Yohji refused to look at him. He felt like he was choking on the feelings he kept pushing down and that looking at Aya would be the last straw, the point at which he would just have to scream it out of himself, purge himself of the emotion, consequences be damned, or simply implode with them.

He was too angry for that, to let himself show that kind of weakness.

So he refused to look, reminding himself that Aya didn't care, that Aya was just making peace for the team, that Aya would never understand how he felt, even if he did scream it at him, and would certainly never return those feelings. Not Aya. Too cold. Too distant.

"Just because you get distracted…"

"Distracted?" Yohji growled. "Distraction wasn't what got me knocked upside the head, Aya. It was a bad mission profile, and the fact that none of us cleared the floor when we should have taken the precaution.

"Besides, if I remember correctly, it was you that had me pinned up against the wall in that hotel room. Who was distracted then, Abyssinian?" His code name; to remind him that they had been on a mission.

"You remember."

"I never said I didn't. Were you hoping I would forget?"

Aya was quiet, which was not so unusual there, but when Yohji glanced up at him, there was a puzzling expression on his face.

Yohji let the silence stretch out, letting Aya make the decision whether to divulge what he was thinking.

"Why?"

Yohji straightened, stretching his back out against the wall.

"Why what?" He baited.

"Why did you do it?" Aya breathed.

Yohji let his head roll against the wall lazily till he was once again looking up at Aya. He waited until Aya returned his gaze before very slowly reaching up and pushing his glasses down on his nose so Aya could see his eyes clearly.

"Why did I do what?" He asked innocently, his expression anything but.

Anger flashed in those pretty violet eyes. "You know what," he gritted out.

Yohji's smile was pure smugness.

"Oh, yes, I know what, Aya, but if you really want an answer, you're going to have to spell it out for me."

And oh, yes, that got to Aya, stuck between having already admitted that he wanted a reason and being put in a position to have to confront the issue directly.

Aya turned away, wouldn't look at Yohji.

"Why did you kiss me?"

Yohji took his time getting up, taking a moment to stretch and take one last drag before dropping the butt to the ground and grinding it into the pavement, making the movement casual, lazy, and somehow sexual. He let his hips roll slightly as he moved to stand in front of Aya, reaching past Aya's head to place a hand on the door so he could lean into Aya's space. Aya still wouldn't look at him, and Yohji dared to reach out, wrapping fingers gently around Aya's jaw and turning his head so Aya couldn't do anything but meet his gaze.

"Because I felt like it, Aya. Because you're so damn sexy." He could see the anger seep into those bright eyes, could feel it steel the jaw he was holding so gently, could sense it seethe through the wire taught body in front of him.

He made the step back look casual, though he was ready to defend himself if needed, and had to force himself to look away.

"Now, if there's nothing else you want, I got plans for tonight. I think I've been cooped up here long enough, don't you?" He turned back and winked smugly. Aya moved as if he'd been zapped by electricity, and Yohji drifted past him back into the house.


	8. Offerings

_I had many of the images from this chapter in mind, but found they wouldn't cooperate with me the way I wanted them to. It worked out in the end. I think. In any case, it finally started to come together and flow better, which is always a good thing._

_This chapter definitely rated M for language (Yohji is NOT in a good mood) and a touch of sexual content. I'm not debating consensual vs. non-consensual; Aya's being obnoxious, but Yohji doesn't seem to mind too much, so as far as I'm concerned, it's all good. Hopefully I managed to get that across._

_Thanks much for all the reviews. I'm loving them! Enjoy._

_Fire Mystic_

Offerings

Bodies moved around him, writhing, wriggling, hands reaching for him, and he slid against them, touched them, laughed with them, tried to lose himself in their heat, their texture. He tried to find what he searched for every time he came out like this; something to remind him he was alive, something warm and pulsing with life. Something that would push the darkness of what he had become away.

Of course it didn't work. It hadn't been working for a long time. He retreated to his second line of defense. The bar. Maybe if he drank enough, it would numb him enough that the pain wouldn't matter anymore. Maybe if he drank enough, he could achieve the illusion that one of those bodies out there could offer him a reprieve, however brief it was.

Fifteen minutes and one pathetically nursed drink later, he gave up on that idea as well.

Hoping it was just the wrong place for that night, he walked, wandering aimlessly. He was usually more focused about where he spent his time, usually more careful about his surroundings, but tonight he simply couldn't bring himself to care much.

It was for that reason that he missed the fact that he was being observed.

He found a small hole in the wall that was quiet and dark, and took a seat at the bar, ordering a beer from the female bartender without as much as a casual flirtation. He was staring into the bottle when he became aware of the presence on the stool next to his.

"You surprise me, Yohji Kudou. I expected more care, even from you."

Yohji didn't have to look up; hearing that taunting voice was bad enough. He didn't want to look at the face that it belonged to. Mentally he berated himself. The man was right, he had been careless.

"Fuck, Schuldig. What the fuck do you want?"

"Would it be so simple for me to make a request? Would you be so accommodating?"

The bartender appeared, placing a second beer in front of Yohji. He noticed she placed one in front of Schuldig as well. The man was buying him drinks now? Fuck again.

"If you're here to kill me, just do it and get it over with. I'm not in the mood for your head games."

"What is this, then? So eager to die tonight, Yohji?

"Or is it perhaps something else you need tonight, Yohji?"

There was a smug lilt in his voice, a tone that was all knowing, as if Schuldig were the one suppressing something instead of Yohji. The expression on his face when Yohji glanced at him confirmed that tone. Schuldig was reading into him, he just didn't know what, exactly, he was picking up on. There was also something else there, in his eyes, and Schuldig was doing nothing to hide it. Yohji recognized it for what it was; the seductive recognition of prey by a predator. He recognized it because he used it himself on more than one occasion in his encounters with women.

"If you want something, Schuldig, you'll have to be more specific." Yohji shrugged indifferently.

"Actually, I believe it is you who wants something; a glance into the mind of a certain red-head, perhaps?"

Yohji couldn't help the breath that slammed out of his lungs. Whatever he had expected Schuldig to be picking up on, this wasn't it.

"Tell me, Yohji, what would you do for a glimpse into that ever closed-off mind? What would you give to know what he is thinking, what he thinks about you? How he feels about you?"

Yohji had clenched his eyes shut when Schuldig started talking again, and now he opened them to stare at his hands, which he realized with a start, would be trembling violently if not for the near crushing grip he had on the beer bottle.

Schuldig waited him out, using the mirror behind the bar to casually observe those around him.

Was it worth it? Yohji would give almost anything to find out what was behind the frozen façade that was Aya Fujimiya. But at what cost? And what if Aya felt nothing? What if Schuldig was offering simply to get something he wanted, and in the end it was an empty offer?

"What would you want in return?" He couldn't help but think that making this kind of arrangement with Schuldig was kin to making a deal with the devil.

"Now, now, let's not be unfair about this Yohji." Schuldig answered his unvoiced concern. "It is a small recompense I ask, something you would hardly notice, I think."

Yohji snorted. He didn't believe that. Not for a second. "What would that be?"

"You."

Yohji's turned confused eyes on the Schwarz member. What was he talk…? And he found the answer in the depths of Schuldig's eyes, the small smirk that graced his lips, the primal hunger painted across his face. The reality of the past ten minutes came to Yohji in a flash: Schuldig tracking him down, offering him no violence. Schuldig buying him a drink. Schuldig offering to help him understand Aya.

Schuldig wanting to fuck him. Literally.

And Yohji, grasping for control over his overheated feelings. Yohji, who couldn't find peace in anything lately except the thought of Aya.

Yohji, who was feeling just desperate enough to seriously consider Schuldig's offer.

With a few more drinks in him, he might have accepted that offer without even the consideration that he had already given it. As it was, he was relieved he had maintained his control that night, that his urge for alcohol had temporarily abandoned him. Still…

"I'll think about it."

Victory lit Schuldig's eyes. "Yes, I think you will."

Yohji pushed back from the bar, standing abruptly. He threw money down on the bar, enough to cover both of his drinks, not allowing Schuldig to think he would take the offer of a drink after all.

"Don't get you're hopes up, Schuldig. I said I would think about it, not that I agreed to it."

Schuldig handed him a card. Yohji took it without looking at it and left, much more careful on his departure than his arrival to make sure he was not being followed. Once he was sure, he paused under a street lamp to inspect the card. An address, a time and a day. Two days from now. Cocky, smug, presumptuous bastard.

It was early, but Yohji had enough. It wasn't even midnight when he came through the back door of the house and made his way through the kitchen in the dark.

"You're home early, Kudou."

He wheeled at the voice in the darkness. Damn it. He really was slipping. He wondered if it was too late to feign drunkenness, and decided it was worth a try. Anything to get out of another nasty confrontation with Aya.

"Aya?" He slouched his posture, even allowing himself a misstep, and let his eyes drift half closed. "Early? What…?"

"Where were you, Kudou?" Yohji had a hard time covering his shock at that question. Was Aya keeping tabs on him now? Had Aya been waiting for him?

"Awwe, Mom." He smothered the burst of laughter at Aya's reaction to that one. "Mmm. Out." He made his way to the door, and started across the living room for the stairs, taking the time to be convincingly off balance, but knowing he had to get away from Aya's scrutiny before Aya caught on to his ruse. He made it to the foot of the stairs before he became aware of Aya following him. The man didn't make any noise, but now that Yohji was aware of him, it was the same senses that kicked in on missions that alerted him.

"Where do you think you're going, Kudou?"

Yohji turned, shrugging, letting his smile turn to a yawn. "Bed, Aya." He reached a hand out with a saucy wink. "Wanna come?"

That certainly stopped Aya in his tracks, and Yohji took the opportunity to retreat further up the steps. He was almost to his door when Aya's hand on his arm spun him around. He let it pull him off his balance, but missed his guess, and ended up pulling Aya with him, both men falling flat in the middle of the floor. Yohji exulted in the feel of the smaller man beneath him; no he wouldn't at all mind having Aya pinned beneath him in a different set of circumstances. As quickly as the feeling over took him, Aya rolled him, pushing off of him with a hand to his throat, the other hand bracing on the floor beside Yohji's head. No, he wouldn't mind having Aya pin him, either.

He grabbed Yohji's chin, shaking his face side to side before holding him still to glare at.

"What the hell are you thinking, Kudou?"

Aya was far rougher than Yohji would have thought. Death by Aya's hand he would have expected, as well as nothing at all, but the brute strength was a surprise. He was sure he'd be wearing proof of the strength in Aya's hands come morning.

"Aya! What?"

"Of all people, Yohji. Schuldig?"

Yohji closed his eyes, struggling against Aya as an excuse to cover his reaction to that. How did Aya know? Was Aya following him? Could Aya know what Schuldig had offered? Or had he simply assumed the worst?

"Get off, Aya." He pushed, but Aya held firm.

"Is this what you want, Yohji?" He ran the hand that had been at Yohji's throat down his body, keeping the weight behind his hand to keep him down. "Is this what you go looking for every night?" That hand found the bare skin of Yohji's belly that was exposed by his high-riding shirt and swept a firm stroke up soft, smooth skin stretched over lean muscle. The breath rushed out of Yohji's lungs as his head thumped back to the floor, the sheer bliss of Aya touching him making his eyes roll back beneath fluttering lids as the fight drained completely out of him.

"Someone to touch you?" His hand pressing back down to his exposed belly button. "Someone that makes you hard?" Past the low-riding waist of his clinging leather pants, pressing his erection hard through the material, making Yohji cry out.

Something in the back of Yohji's mind registered the anger in Aya's voice. He didn't want Yohji; Aya was teaching him a lesson, and Yohji couldn't bring himself to give a damn. He was willing to take Aya any way he could get him, even if it was in anger.

"Someone to relieve that hardness?" Aya's hands were moving, and Yohji heard the swish of the zipper, felt the constriction give, and then cooler air surround him.

Then Aya's hand closed firmly over the satin hardness, squeezing very slightly, and Yohji melted into that grasp with a harsh, guttural cry.

The world came to a standstill for a breathless moment before Yohji felt Aya moving up over his body. He opened his eyes to find Aya holding his hand out so Yohji could see the proof of his release.

"Would it keep you from going to the likes of Schuldig? If I did this for you? If I kept you distracted?" He said the last with a hard bite to it.

Yohji shifted his body as his brain shifted back into reality; and then a whole different reality struck him. He refocused his eyes from Aya's hand to catch Aya's gaze, and let a knowing smile curl on his lips. Lifting his leg just a tiny bit, he let his thigh ride up between Aya's legs.

"You're hard, Aya."

Aya flinched just enough to dislodge the pressure of Yohji's leg.

"You're drunk, Kudoh."

Yohji lifted, his thigh rubbing again, his stomach clenching tight, his mouth reaching so he could lap once at Aya's extended fingers. He let his gaze focus intentionally.

"No, Aya. I'm not."


	9. Negotiations

_When I finished this chapter, I wasn't sure if i should post it or go back to the drawing board. So I let my PR read it, and he said it was fine, but then he is SO squeamish about the m/m thing that I still wasn't sure. After proofing, I read through it again, andI think I'm liking it much better now.I hope you will as well. _

_The perspective changes here and there in this one. Hopefully I managed it effectively. Let me know if it's disorienting!_

_As always, the reviews, feedback, and encouragement are awesome. Thanks so much!_

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Negotiations

As quickly as Aya drew back, Yohji was faster, snagging Aya's arm in a fierce grip and holding his hand close to once again taste the salty fluid before releasing him. Aya was struggling to pull away, and the end result was him stumbling back to sit suddenly against the wall before he managed to push himself violently to his feet and retreat down the hall, slamming the door to his room behind him. In the entire time he had known him, Yohji couldn't remember ever having seen the man move so awkwardly. It might have made him laugh if not for the emotions he caught flashing across Aya's face. The shields had slammed into place, but not before Yohji caught what he would have sworn was a combination of lust, vulnerability, and fear before it was all consumed by the ever-present mask of anger that Aya used so effectively.

Yohji leaned up on his elbows, observing the mess Aya had left him in. Not that Yohji had any innocence left, but he couldn't remember the last time he had been on the receiving end of such aggression and then left in such a debauched state. That brought a chuckle. Talk about love 'em and leave 'em.

"Yohji?"

As soft as they were, he had heard the footfalls on the stairs behind him, so his name softly spoken didn't surprise him in the least. He reclined back further, dropping his head back, and gave Omi and Ken a lopsided, upside-down grin.

"Hey guys." He pushed himself up to his feet, managing to tuck himself into a more respectable state before turning back to his team-mates. "Just so you know, the rug in the living room is much more comfortable than this floor up here. Except for the friction burn, that is."

He winked at them, and then casually slid into his room.

He flopped on his bed, not bothering to clean himself yet. Lighting a cigarette, he inhaled deeply and searched for answers in the smoke that curled out of his lungs.

He was tempted, damned tempted, to go down the hall, beat Aya's door down and demand an explanation. For everything. How Aya knew he had met Schuldig, what he knew about the meeting, and his actions tonight. He had the distinct impression, however, based on Aya's reaction and flight into seclusion, that he wouldn't see another morning if he did that. Did Aya really think he had planned the meeting with Schuldig? Was it possible Aya knew what Schuldig was after, or did he think it a clandestine meeting, an indication that Yohji might be drifting to the other side? Yohji shook his head; Aya couldn't believe that. Could he? He had worked with Yohji long enough to know better. Hadn't he? Besides, if Aya really thought Yohji was switching sides, he would have killed him. Wouldn't he?

Yohji glanced down, and saw his hand resting against his lower belly, oblivious to the cool, stickiness beneath it. He brushed that hand up his body, and, watching the action, could almost imagine that it was once again Aya touching him, so firm, so sure. There had been no question in Aya's actions, no hesitation, but it hadn't been gentle, not by any means, and that fact, combined with his immediate reaction, made Yohji realize just how primed he had been. He wondered if Aya had picked up on that little fact.

That reminded him of Aya's offer. It was daring, but what did it really entail? Hand jobs in the hallway when Aya thought Yohji was losing grip with reality? Or had it been a facetious offer, made only because he thought Yohji drunk, only because he was trying to teach Yohji a lesson. Aya? With a twisted sense of humor? Oh, hell no. Surely Aya wasn't dense enough to think that what he had done would really be considered punishment. Or was he?

* * *

Aya wanted to hit something, but that would have been noisy and he didn't want Yohji Kudou to know just how far gone he was. He ended up slamming his fist into the mattress, which was unsatisfactory, to say the least, but at least it was quiet. Good thing he didn't have his katana in hand; the mattress would have been totaled.

How could he have been so stupid? He had intended to confront Kudou, and when that didn't go the way he planned, it had upgraded to humiliating him. His game had been turned around on him completely, though, not only because Yohji had fooled him, but because of Yohji's reaction. Yohji, struggling under him until his hand had touched skin, the struggle draining away. Yohji arching up under that touch. Yohji crying out as he poured himself into Aya's hand.

It hadn't even taken one stroke.

Then there was his reaction. He wasn't hard, as Yohji had observed. He was painfully hard; he hadn't been able to hide it, and he couldn't ignore it. Even now, the constriction of his jeans was causing severe distress, and he clawed at the fastenings, practically sobbing in relief as the fabric was moved away. He looked at his hand, still wet from Yohji's release, and groaned when he realized the thought of it made him throb harder. He fell to his knees, hand wrapping around aching flesh, and pumped smoothly into the cooling fluid surrounded by firm pressure. Once, twice, and he had to bite his lip to contain the cry of release, and then he slumped forward, panting for breath and wondering.

What was he doing?

What had he done?

* * *

Yohji didn't have the same shift as Aya the next morning, but he showed up in the shop anyway. He had slept in; there was no reason to deprive himself of that luxury, but it was still earlier than his usual appearance.

Ken nearly dropped an arrangement he was helping a customer with when he saw Yohji, but recovered quickly enough. Yohji took the arrangement from him with a shake of the head.

"Looks like you need an early lunch break, Ken. Go ahead. I'll cover for you."

Ken didn't argue, didn't question. He smiled at the customer and bowed out gracefully. Smart man.

Yohji took care of Ken's last customer, and went to lean on the counter behind where Aya was working. Aya didn't acknowledge him, but Yohji was sure he had Aya's undivided attention.

"It wasn't a planned meeting, Aya. Schuldig just showed up." They needed to talk, but Yohji knew they would get nowhere if he put Aya on the defensive. Aya's tone was even and calm, though, as if they were discussing the weather.

"What did he want?"

"What makes you think he…?"

"Don't be an idiot, Kudou. This is Schuldig we're talking about. He never shows up without a motive."

Well, at least Aya was back to his old terms of endearment. Yohji would have missed being called an idiot.

"He had some information he wanted to share."

There was a slight hitch in Aya's movements, just enough that Yohji knew that bothered him.

"About?"

"Nothing that has to do with Weiss, Aya. It was more of a personal thing. He knew I was looking for some information, and he happened to have it."

Aya had stopped working all together. "Did you get what you were looking for?"

"Not exactly."

"Why not?"

"Now who's being the idiot, Aya? Because this is Schuldig we're talking about. Because he always wants something in return."

"So?"

"So I'm not so sure I want to pay his price. I'm still thinking about it."

There was a long stretch when neither said anything. Yohji finally pushed away from the counter to go back to the front of the shop.

"I wasn't following you."

Yohji stopped and looked back over his shoulder. He could see Aya's face in profile, but Aya still wouldn't look at him.

"I was on my way back to the shop when I saw Schuldig go into that bar. I followed, just to make sure he wasn't going to cause trouble, and when I opened the door, I saw him sitting next to you and I turned and left. It wasn't intentional."

Yohji smiled, knowing Aya wouldn't make that up.

"Then you came back here and waited for me."

Was that a blush?

"That shouldn't have happened."

Yohji took the few steps closer, resting a hand on Aya's work table, close enough to touch, but maintaining a breath of space between them.

"I'm not sorry it did, Aya."

Aya turned to him, then, eyes questioning, and Yohji knew the man was in turmoil about what had happened.

"I'll never be sorry about it." He turned away, went back to the front of the store and made a point of giving Aya his space. He had said his piece for now, and he was determined that Aya have time to think about it.

Not much later, Ken came back from his lunch break, opening the door into the shop cautiously and looking around as if he thought to find the place completely destroyed. He came up to stand beside Yohji at the register.

"Everything okay, Yohji?" He asked, peering around, checking on Aya's location, still at his work table, working on another arrangement.

"It's all good, Ken." Flashing a bright smile, he took his apron off and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, popping it in the corner of his mouth to let it dangle. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I just thought…"

"Awe Ken-Ken. Don't think too much. It'll give you wrinkles, and you have to stay young and beautiful for Omi." He winked as he slipped past Ken, deposited his apron on its hook and slipped out of the shop.

He was in his room not more than ten minutes when there was a tap at the door.

"Yeah." He said, not bothering to ask who it was. Strange or not, he knew it would be Aya, who came in, closed the door, and leaned back against it.

He didn't say anything.

Yohji waited him out.

Minutes ticked by.

Aya stood against the door, head hung, his face hidden by unruly red bangs.

Yohji sat looking out the window, smoking, trying to keep the fine tremble in his hands from giving him away.

"I don't know how to do this."

Yohji didn't ask for an explanation. He didn't need one.

"You didn't have any problems last night in the hall."

"That was…just…"

"A distraction?" Yohji turned, catching Aya's nod through an exhalation of smoke.

"Hn."

"So your offer stands? A bit of distraction here and there to….what? Keep me in line?"

"To keep you focused when you need to be."

Yohji turned his head so Aya wouldn't catch his wicked smile. "Yeah," he thought, "you keep telling yourself that, Fujimiya." He composed himself before turning back.

"And you?"

Aya startled. "What about me?"

"You were distracted, too. Does this deal work both ways?"

Aya looked lost, another new one on Yohji. His teammate was just full of surprises lately.

"I…don't know."

Yohji nodded. "Okay, Aya. How about we take it one step at a time and see where that gets us?"

Aya nodded. One step at a time. He just hoped he wasn't about to trip himself up.


	10. Should I?

_Cooperation is key, boys! Okay, so I won't blame my delay on AYA (Yohji either, poor confused creature). But I will give a bit of insight to my writing; I'm a visualist. I see the scenes in my head before they go down on paper (or into the neo). Problem is the scenes don't always come IN ORDER. Wouldn't that help? So while I can clearly visualize the last scene of the entire story, I trip here and there getting to that scene intact. _

_Rated M for a tiny bit of erotic content._

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Should I?

"Yohji! What are you doing?"

From his task, Yohji glanced up at Omi.

"Isn't it obvious?"

Yes, it was obvious, but it's not something Omi ever thought to see Yohji worrying about.

"Got someone special, Yohji?"

A half smile lit his face as he winked.

"You could say that."

As Omi shrugged and walked away, Yohji turned back to the daisy in his hand and pulling another petal off, but instead of the usual "he loves me, he loves me not", Yohji's petals were "meet Schuldig, don't meet Schuldig". Talk about leaving things to chance.

After Aya had left his room, Yohji had taken Schuldig's card out of his pocket to throw it away, but as his hand hovered over the small garbage pale, the card seemed to stick to his fingers. He studied it again; tomorrow night. He still had more than twenty four hours to make a decision. Maybe he should hold onto it, at least for that long.

Yes, he had reached a tentative arrangement with Aya, and he had a tiny bit more insight into the man than before, but he couldn't help but wonder what Aya was really thinking, what was really behind his actions. Not to mention the fact that he still didn't know exactly what this arrangement entailed.

And he was afraid to ask. He was afraid if he pushed Aya for any further clarification, he would withdraw the offer. He was also afraid to initiate anything, afraid Aya would see it as him taking advantage.

His nerves were now on edge, and now he wasn't sure if this plan was good or bad.

He looked up at Aya, across the shop, who had managed to get cornered by one of those silly little school girls. He looked put out, but at least the girl was buying something. Yohji wondered if the grudging expression on Aya's face had nothing to do with having to help the annoying teenager, and more to do with the fact that he couldn't yell at the girl to get out of the shop if she wasn't making a purchase. The thought brought a huge grin to his face, and, of course, that's when Aya turned and caught his eye over the girl's shoulder. Yohji froze, grin slipping from his face, the air squeezing from his lungs. There was a fierce intensity in Aya's eyes that made Yohji feel like Aya could see right through him, knew every thought he was thinking. He felt trapped in that gaze; Aya kept his emotions locked in as much as he could, while Yohji wore his on his sleeve. He felt like he was at such a disadvantage.

Aya broke the contact first, drawn back to the girl he was helping, and Yohji managed to pull himself together before he was overtaken by yet another onslaught of teenage hormones.

"Yohji!" He turned to find Ken with his hands full of flowers. "Can you get me extra buckets from the store room?"

Who would have thought Ken would save him. Contrary to how he flirted his way through the ladies in the shop, it meant nothing to him, and he was just as relieved as the rest of them to catch a break now and then.

"Sorry ladies," as he disengaged himself from the crowd. "I've been assigned a mission of the utmost importance." Oh, if they only knew of the missions his real job entailed.

He made his way to the store room, closing the door behind him and leaning against it, grateful for the brief reprieve of peace and solitude. He considered having a smoke while he was alone, but Ken had looked like he needed those buckets and he would be pissed if he found out Yohji took the time to indulge in his addiction. Okay, no cigarette. He found the buckets in the back of the store room under a shelf, unexpectedly stuck together, and the end result was not all too graceful as Yohji nearly hit his head on the shelf before he managed to draw back at the last second.

"Need some help?"

He spun at the sound, barely missing a loop of a hose curled up on the floor near his foot, and faced Aya.

"Damn it, Aya, quit sneaking up on me!"

Aya let the door close behind him. "I wasn't sneaking up on you. Perhaps you were distracted."

"I was getting…" The last word sunk in and Yohji stopped short, eyes widening, mouth frozen around the beginning of the word 'buckets'. And he had been worried about taking advantage. Aya hadn't even been subtle about it. He might as well have taken out a billboard.

"Yohji!" Ken's yell filtered through the door. Aya's lips lifted in a…smile? Tiny, closed lipped, but a smile all the same. What the hell was that about? Then he stepped back and opened the door for Yohji, ushering him through with a sweep of his arm. He was almost past when Aya spoke.

"Upstairs. Five minutes."

He dropped the buckets by Ken's feet, startling him into glancing up, then doing a double-take.

"You okay, Yohji? You look kind of pale."

"No, I just remembered something important. I have to run upstairs for a few minutes. Can you guys manage?"

"Sure," Ken shrugged. "It's not like they actually buy much of anything, anyway."

Yohji took the stairs two at a time, finding Aya's door partially open. He walked in without knocking, and was pinned against it as it closed. He reached for Aya, but Aya forcefully blocked his hands, pushing them back to the wall.

"Leave them there."

Yohji didn't think twice about obeying the command.

Aya wasted no time about his task, making quick work of the material in his way, pulling the tight fabric of Yohji's jeans down just far enough, and then grasping the heated flesh he had exposed, and quickly building a rhythm of smooth stroking.

Yohji let his head loll back to the wall. How was it this man could so quickly bring heat to his blood, completely stripping him of his stamina. He could already feel the roll of pleasure beginning, and knew he wouldn't last much longer. His hips gained a slightly erratic rhythm as he thrust up into Aya's hand, and then Aya was on his knees, the heat of his mouth replacing the grasp of his fingers. Yohji couldn't stop the strangled sound that left his throat or his hands as they wrapped around Aya's head to draw him closer as he pushed deeper, and his body folded with the force of his orgasm. Aya didn't let him go immediately, rolling the softening flesh in his mouth, the rasp of his tongue almost too much on the now hyper-sensitive skin, before sinking down to sit on the floor. Wiping his mouth delicately with a finger and licking it off, he glanced at Yohji, who had slid down against the door.

"Are you always this needy?"

It could have been a mean question, an accusing question, but his voice was soft, his expression curious, even slightly bewildered. But not cold. Yohji gasped a bark of laughter out, still catching his breath.

"Only with you, it seems. I'm usually the one taking care of other people's needs. Speaking of which." He leaned forward, one arm stretching out, and Aya drew away from him.

"No."

"But Aya…"

Aya stood up, a bit off balance. So this had gotten to him, even if he wouldn't admit it, even if he wouldn't let Yohji do anything about it.

"We have to get back to work." He turned his back, a clear refusal to any further discussion, and Yohji took the hint, pushing himself up, adjusting his clothing, and stepping out into the hall. He heard the door close softly as he reached the stairs, followed by the sound of Aya's footsteps as he moved down the hall behind him.

Damn if that didn't help him make his decision.


	11. Rendezvous

_Should he, shouldn't he...do we figure Yohji smart enough to make the right decision? This chapter turned out fun to write. I didn't know if I would like writing Schuldig, but he's kind of fun to play with a bit. And Aya? Well, I'm not sure I want to be around to see his reaction to this Yohji adventure._

_Reviews and feedback are much appreciated._

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Rendezvous

"I'm going out." It wasn't necessarily an unusual thing for Yohji to say on his way out the door. Occasionally he announced it, though most times he didn't; he would simply sweep through dressed sinfully enough to leave people in puddles behind him.

"Have a good time, Yohji." That from Omi, forever full of good cheer and willing to spread it around. Ken simply grunted at him from where he was sitting on the couch with Omi's feet perched in his lap. He was eating a bowl of cereal and engrossed in a movie, which Aya couldn't be bothered to find out even the title to because he had his nose buried in a book.

"I'll probably be really late." Yohji called back as he drifted across the kitchen. Aya heard him exit the house as the book came to rest in his lap and his eyes lifted to look into the kitchen that Yohji had just disappeared through.

Now, that was strange. Yohji never gave out that kind of information. He might announce his leaving, but never bothered telling anyone when he might be back. Why would he bother now?

Aya placed his book on the table by his chair and leaned forward in his seat in thought.

Yohji had sounded…what? Nervous?

"Aya?" Omi inquired. "What's wrong?"

Standing up, Aya stalked across the room. "Nothing. Yohji just reminded me of an errand I had to do that I didn't get to." Without further explanation, he headed out the door.

Yohji's car was still parked at the curb. That meant he had walked. Careful not to expose himself, Aya surveyed the area, and caught sight of Yohji a couple of blocks away moving quickly through the few evening pedestrians. Aya followed, keeping to the shadows, berating himself with every step for doing this, but something was up, and damn if his curiosity wasn't getting the best of him.

Yohji was being careful, checking his surroundings more than could be mistaken for anything but what it was; making sure he was not being watched. It tickled Aya that Yohji consistently underestimated his skill at blending into his environment, and he couldn't help the small grin when Yohji's eyes scanned right over the shadow in which he was hiding without catching a glimpse of him.

Yohji had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at the building across the street. Then he began pacing, back and forth, back and forth. What was he doing? Waiting for someone? Aya watched him run his hands through his hair, briefly holding his head in his hands while shaking it before pushing his hair back and stepping out into the empty street to cross. Aya waited for him to disappear into the building before approaching to confirm what he couldn't see clearly from where he was; yes, it was a small hotel.

Aya flashed back to Yohji's disclosure of his encounter with Schuldig. Aya didn't think Yohji had lied to him; Yohji had told him he wasn't sure the deal was worth it. But he hadn't said he wasn't going to take it. And now Aya was pretty sure of at least part of what the deal entailed.

Aya wasn't sure which emotion was stronger; his anger at Yohji for going through with this, the betrayal that Yohji was consorting with the enemy, or, and it pained him to admit this, his jealousy.

* * *

Yohji entered the building and approached the front desk. It was a small hotel, and as he had expected it was certainly not top notch. No, this was not the type of place where they left chocolate on your pillow. You'd think on Schwartz's salary Schuldig could have done better than this.

The old man behind the counter peered at him over his paper, and Yohji realized he didn't know what to do past this point, so he did the only thing he could think of.

"I'm here to see Schuldig."

The man snorted, but didn't say anything, reaching back to take a key from the hook and chucking it onto the desk.

"Down at the end of the hall. Last door on the left."

Yohji reached for the key, his hand hesitating just above it before making contact. His body kept hesitating, and though his brain kept telling him to listen to his body, he took the key and headed down the hall anyway.

Schuldig was sitting on the bed, lounging against the headboard, his knees drawn up with his arms resting on them, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. He opened his eyes, smiling, as Yohji closed the door behind him.

"I like to sit quietly and just listen now and then. I'm always entertained by the random tidbits I catch floating around in the minds of those passing by.

"I can taste your indecision in my mind like the sweetest candy, but I knew you would come."

"Fuck you, Schuldig."

"I believe our arrangement is actually for the other way around, Yohji." Yohji cringed at the lewd tone in Schuldig's voice. God, what had he been thinking?

"You were thinking that you would finally get some answers about a certain little red head."

"Yeah. I'm still not sure it's worth it. Or necessary."

In a flash, Schuldig was standing in front him, leaning into him, practically touching, but not quite, and inhaling deeply.

"Ah. You've had a little taste of him. Or should I say he's had a taste of you. And now you think what? That you know how Aya feels? What he is thinking? That whatever little taste you get will be enough?"

The groan that escaped Yohji's throat was half disgust of Schuldig's too up close and personal invasion of his space, and half disgust that the telepath was stealing glimpses into his mind, trampling through emotions that were already too raw. But Schuldig was right. He really didn't know Aya any better than he had before.

How was he going to do this?

"You know I'm not going to enjoy this."

Schuldig's smile was, simply put, evil. "That is what I'm looking forward to the most, Kudouh Yohji."

He wrapped a hand around Yohji's throat and skimmed it down the front of his body to squeeze at the soft flesh between Yohji's legs.

With just that, Yohji knew he wasn't going to be able to go through with this. As sexual a creature as he was Yohji felt nothing but repulsion at Schuldig's touch. Shoving first the offending hand, and then Schuldig, Yohji retreated through the door, not bothering to close it behind him. Schuldig's laughter raked over him in a foul wave that crept along his skin, raised the hair on the back of his neck, and made his teeth hurt.

"He knows you came here, Yohji."

That stopped him dead in his tracks, but he refused to turn back.

"He will think the worst even if you walk away."

More hesitation. Yohji hated his mind at that moment, second guessing himself, when he knew he should go with instinct and simply get the hell out of Dodge.

He forced himself to focus. If he told Aya the truth, Aya would believe him. Right? He would be pissed that Yohji went to meet with Schuldig, but he would believe him when he said nothing happened, that he decided to not go through with it.

"Are you really going to count on that, Yohji?"

"Get the fuck out of my head, Schuldig." Yohji snarled and started back down the hall again. To hell with this. He wanted Aya, and he sensed that Aya wanted him to at least some extent. That was enough for now. He threw the keys on the desk as he passed it and stepped out onto the street, profoundly relieved as he gulped fresh air into his lungs and pushed down the bile that had risen in his throat.


	12. Anticipating the Worst

_I hope this chapter gets across what it is intended to. I had a difficult time with it, but after getting a bit of feedback, the end result is satisfying to me. _

_On a personal note, I apologize if I spell Kudou wrong. I had a real issue with choosing which of the many spellings I was going to go with, both with the first and last name. I'm now happy with Yohji, but my brain doesn't yet want to accept Kudou the way I chose to do it in the beginning. What can I say? I'm not very good at making the tough decisions. Or the easy ones. Yes, it's okay if you laugh at me for that._

_For reading and reviewing, thanks so much!_

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Anticipating the Worst

His breathing came easier with each step he took from the hotel, but now there was a pressure building up within his brain that was screaming 'what the hell were you thinking, Kudou'. Meeting Schuldig had been stupid; he could see that now in vivid color like a neon sign flashing behind his eyes. There would never have been an end to the payback and who knows what ways Schuldig would have found to use it against him. Hell, he hadn't even gone through with it, and it was already causing problems. Besides, he had been getting someplace with Aya. Granted, it wasn't what he truly wanted, but it was more than he had before. Now even that tiny hope might have been thrown out the window.

He was almost back at the Koneko, and thinking about Aya, when the worst of it struck him the hardest. Forget that Aya was going to be pissed; this might ruin everything. Like a bolt, Yohji knew that despite the lack of intimacy in the arrangement he had with Aya, he was sure that Aya would expect that relationship to be exclusive.

No. That would be insane. Completely unfair.

And completely within Aya's character. Yohji was suddenly sure that this would have been an unspoken condition without which Aya would never have made his offer.

Everything relied on Aya believing that nothing had happened. What were the chances of that?

Yohji opened the door into the kitchen, fully prepared to find Aya there, sword in hand, waiting for him. When he found the room empty, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. That meant Aya wasn't going to fly off the handle. Oh, no. That would be too expected, too easy to deal with. It would be worse than that; Aya was going to think about how to punish him.

"Stop it," he muttered, silently reprimanding himself for jumping to conclusions. Maybe he was wrong about all of it.

He wandered through the house, finding Ken and Omi still on the couch. Omi had turned so he was leaning into Ken's body, Ken's arm wrapped around him holding him close. Jealousy spiked through Yohji. Why couldn't it be that simple? Why did his eye have to fall on a man who would probably rather impale himself on his own katana than snuggle up on the couch. Ken dropped his head back, looking at Yohji upside down.

"Hey Yohji. You're back early."

"Yeah. Sorry to ruin your…together time."

Omi sat up. "Does it bother you, Yohji? We'll be more…"

"No, Chibi. It's fine. I'm happy for you both. I've just had a really crappy night. I'm just gonna call it a night."

He exited before Omi had a chance to express the concern that was showing in his face.

He didn't see Aya anywhere in the lower level of the house, nor on the second floor, although his door was closed. He could very well be in his room and Yohji would never know and, feeling momentarily cowardly, he wasn't going to knock on the door to find out. He hadn't been quiet about coming in, ascending the stairs, and when he opened and closed his door, he didn't make any effort to hide the fact that he was home. If Aya was in his room, Aya would hear him. If Aya wanted to confront him, Aya could come find him.

He flopped on his bed, lighting a cigarette, leaning back against the headboard, one arm thrown over his shoulder, gripping the headboard. He was still in that position an hour later when he heard Ken and Omi come up the stairs. They were being quiet, but he could hear their muffled voices, Omi's soft laughter, Ken's deeper chuckle. He heard the thump of what sounded like a body being pushed against the wall, which was then accompanied by a low groan. Omi, he was sure. He slumped down into the bed, pulling a pillow over his ears. He was so not going to be subjected to listening to the two of them make out. He remained like that for as long as he could stand it, and when he finally lifted the pillow, the sounds were gone.

An hour passed. He had removed his clothes and returned to the bed, hoping that he would be lucky enough to fall asleep. Another hour passed, and he was staring at the clock, watching the seconds tick by.

That's how he knew it was two thirty-seven when Aya came home. He sat up, suddenly on alert. No sound from down below, but then there were footsteps on the stairs. A door opening and closing, then again a few minutes later, and then the sound of the shower running from down the hall. Aya's return to his room.

And the house fell into silence.

Yohji stared at the wall as if might be able to see Aya through it. That was it? No fireworks? No uncontrollable rage? No confrontation?

Yohji hung his head in his hands. This was going to be worse than he thought.

* * *

Yohji had no problem getting to work on time the next morning. How could he oversleep when he hadn't slept at all? And while he was on time, he was practically useless. Fortunately, he was working with Ken, whom, Yohji knew, could be counted on not to demand any explanation despite eyeing him with concern. For once, Ken let Yohji's lack of effort off the hook, made easier by the fact that the shop remained quiet for the majority of the morning. Ken left him to go to lunch, returning a half hour later with Omi in tow.

"Go get some rest, Yohji. Ken and I will take care of the shop."

"Where's Aya? I thought it was his shift this afternoon."

"It was, but Aya's…not feeling well."

Well, that was something unusual. Aya was hardly ever sick, and when he was, he didn't let it get in his way.

"Go get some sleep, Yohji. We've got it covered."

"Yeah. Thanks, Omi." He wandered out in a daze and made his way to his room, determined to follow Omi's advice and get some rest. He eyed Aya's door before entering his own room, and before he could stop himself, he was tapping gently on it.

"Aya. Can I come in for a minute?"

He held his breath. Nothing. Not a sound. He tapped again.

"Aya, please. I need to talk to you."

Nothing.

Was he really going to ignore him like this again? Was he even in the room?

As he was about to give up, the door opened and Aya peered out at him from a room that was darkened by the drawn curtains. Disheveled hair hung in his face and his eyes were pinched around the edges. He leaned heavily against the door.

Yohji was a bit startled by his appearance.

"Omi said you didn't feel well. Do you need anything?"

Narrowing eyes told him that Aya was not appreciating his concern.

"Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

"Well, no, but I thought I'd ask."

Aya didn't respond. He stared at Yohji until Yohji thought he might wither away under that glare.

"Aya, I wanted to…"

"Was it good, Kudou?"

Yohji stepped back. Aya took a step forward.

"Did Schuldig give you what you wanted? What you needed? Does he get you off like I do?"

"Aya! I wanted to say I'm sorry."

"Yes. You are." And he stepped back and closed the door.

Yohji stood frozen, stunned, and then burst into action, following his teammate, bursting into Aya's room behind him.

"Goddamn it, Aya."

The fist caught him across the jaw, just like the last time Aya had hit him, but with no wall behind him, he hit the floor hard. When he opened his eyes he was looking at a very pissed off Aya over the length of Aya's katana. He took a deep breath, and spoke very calmly.

"You don't really plan on using that, do you Aya?"

The smirk on Aya's face was chilling. "Why not? You're consorting with the enemy, aren't you? Kritiker wouldn't need much more for a kill order."

"Fuck, Aya. Fuck! Nothing happened."

"Then why are you sorry?"

"I'm sorry that I even went there. I'm sorry that I even considered what Schuldig offered." He paused, looking up the blade into eyes filled with rage and distrust. "I'm sorry that I ever felt like I needed what Schuldig offered."

"And what was that?"

Yohji wanted to look away, but dared not take his eyes from Aya. "I told you. He had information for me."

"Information. Did you get what you were looking for? Did Schuldig deliver?"

"I already told you nothing happened. I couldn't meet his terms."

"Why not?"

Not 'what were the terms?'. Aya already knew what the terms had been, and while it stung Yohji that Aya thought he could be so easily swayed, it stung worse that he had almost been that easy. He glanced at the shiny steel blade between them and decided to go with truth. Swallowing hard, he faced those piercing eyes.

"I realized I didn't want to betray you."

Aya studied his eyes for a long time before the katana spun away in a swirl of motion to end up pointed at the floor at Aya's side.

"Hn." He stepped back, reaching back to place the katana on the dresser next to its sheath. Yohji moved slowly, carefully, getting up off the floor. He knew Aya was fast, had admired his speed and agility since the first time he had seen him fight, but he had never been on this end of that anger, and quite honestly didn't want to be there again. Finally standing, he turned to leave, doing his best to keep it from looking like he was fleeing, but paused at the door, not daring to look back.

"What does this do to our arrangement, Aya?"

Aya barked a laugh. As much as Yohji would have dearly loved to hear what Aya sounded like laughing, he was sure that the harsh sound was not representative of a happy Aya, if there even was such a thing.

"What's the matter, Kudou? You need me to take the edge off for you?"

Yohji turned his head halfway back, not even far enough to be able to see the other man.

"No, Aya. I feel tainted right now. Even if I didn't, you aren't feeling well. You know," and he paused, knowing his next words would sound out of character to his teammate, despite their honesty. "It's not always about sex."


	13. Mixed Emotions

_I blame all delays on Reno (No, I don't own him, either). Reno stole all my WK fanfiction writing except for HIS and held it hostage until I finished HIS latest adventure. So now Aya's mad at me again (are we surprised?) and Yohji is too wrapped up in his own dilemma to care! Gotta love them!_

_Thanks for your patience. Thanks for reading, and thank you for all the wonderful reviews!_

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Mixed Emotions

The darkness seemed complete, but Aya knew that was not so. Hunkered down with his back to a wall, his eyes had adjusted long ago until he could make out shapes in the darkness. It had been hours, and there was nothing moving and no sound except for the occasional contact of his teammates over the com, expressing their own anxiety of being left in suspense. He wondered briefly how much time he had spent in his time in Weiss with sitting in the dark like this, waiting.

The part of his brain that was able to tune out the world and narrow his focus to nothing but the kill maintained the constant vigilance required of a mission. Every step of the way, however, it fought with the distraction the rest of his brain kept throwing at him, a battle that was exhausting in its own right.

That distracted part of his brain knew exactly where Yohji was at every second, was aware of him as if he were standing right beside him, as if he were an extension of himself.

Damn it.

To think; how royally it had pissed him off with Yohji over this exact same problem. Yohji was now more focused than he had ever been, not only for the sake of the mission, but for Aya's protection as well, Aya now realized.

How the tables had turned.

Further, Yohji hadn't once approached Aya about his offer, hadn't once held him to it. He had approached Yohji, but not the other way around.

That pissed him off. Worse, it pissed him off that it pissed him off.

He ran a hand through his hair, clamping it around the back of his neck, realizing how hot it was in here. He felt like he was suffocating.

There was movement off to his left, past the wide entranceway that he stood beside, just beyond his sight. Yohji. What was he doing? There was a soft sound, a swish, and then the unmistakable zing of the wire being released. A shuffling and an exclamation of sound immediately to Aya's right alerted him to another target coming through the door, and he went into automatic, letting his cold, well-honed control mix with the heat of killing rage to form a lethal fuel that threw him into overdrive. The man was dead on the floor before he was even aware of the assassin hidden in the dark. The man behind him wasn't so lucky. He hit a switch on the wall, and the lights flickered up just in time for him to see the slashing steel of the sword, just in time to see his death coming and realize there was nothing he could do about it.

With a glance, Aya confirmed that one of the men was their primary target. The other was unfamiliar, poor fool; wrong place, wrong time. He turned, taking in Yohji's location, and the man hanging from the wire, the secondary target. Mission accomplished.

Aya looked up to find Yohji watching him from across the room, a concerned expression on his face.

"Okay, Aya?"

A simple nod and he turned to leave, exiting the building without looking back, leaving Yohji to follow, his confusion still evident. Fuck him. Aya was not going to explain what was going through his head, was not going to try to muddle through his own emotional mess just to come up with some vague excuse to satisfy Yohji's curiosity.

Trotting across the vast expanse of the parking lot, he was vaguely aware of Yohji slightly behind him keeping pace. When they reached the van, they waited with Omi for Ken, who had been scouting the further side of the grounds. He arrived a few minutes later, and although there was nothing overt, Aya couldn't help but catch the way Omi smiled at Ken and Ken let his hand discreetly trail over Omi's lower back and hip, and he turned quickly away, not sure what name to put on the feelings that were rushing through him.

Yohji climbed into the van to drive, while Ken and Omi climbed into the back, leaving Aya to either join them, which he knew would be awkward, or to take the front passenger seat. He climbed in, taking the seat next to Yohji with a sigh, resigning himself to a long ride with his mind swimming in the mire of his emotions, and distracted to no end by the man sitting beside him. His attention drifted; to the long legs as they worked the clutch, brake, and gas; to the hand wrapped around the stick as he shifted; to the profile of his face, determined, focused on the road; to the hair that now flew out around his face from the window he had opened. Before Yohji had the chance to catch him, Aya turned his attention out his window in a desperate attempt not to be obvious, and tried to clear his mind of the thoughts that fueled his aching arousal.

In his room, he stripped out of his mission gear while pacing the floor, convinced that tonight Yohji would come to him, if only to find out what had been wrong. But Yohji didn't come.

"This should have been easy," he muttered to himself. After he had thought about it, he realized it was the perfect arrangement; Yohji would get what he wanted, and Aya could reap the benefits without the hang-ups of any emotional attachment. Then Schuldig had come into the picture. "Fucking bastard." Aya slammed a hand down on the dresser as the words came through clenched teeth. He was still pissed that Yohji had gone to meet Schuldig, but he had believed it when Yohji told him he hadn't gone through with it.

That alone told Aya he had more to worry about than he thought. It was the fact that Yohji hadn't taken Schuldig's offer that had made it abundantly clear that Yohji was in this for more than slaking his lust, and Aya couldn't allow that. Gritting his teeth till his jaw ached, he stalked out of his room, determined to make sure that, somehow, Yohji would come to understand that their own arrangement was for physical release and satisfaction, nothing more.

* * *

Yohji sat in the van outside in the alley behind the Koneko for a long time before he deigned to get out and head go into the shop. Aya had hardly waited for the van to stop before he was opening the door and disappearing into the building. Yohji knew something had happened on the mission, could tell by Aya's behavior, although he was sure Aya was completely unaware of it. He knew Aya had been watching him on the ride back, although he hadn't acknowledged it. He had hoped Aya would talk, but, as usual, silence reigned.

Damned if he was going to ask about it, either.

His chest grew heavy with the disappointment he felt at his last confrontation with Aya. He recognized his part in Aya's violent anger, but the things Aya had said, the assumptions he had made…the more Yohji thought about it, the more it hurt. Still, he couldn't bring himself to be angry; just disappointed, and completely unsure of himself and how to handle the situation.

He chuckled, as he stepped out of the van and looked up at the building, at the light he knew was Aya's. Kudouh Yohji, unsure of himself in the ways of pleasure. "That certainly doesn't happen very often," he exclaimed to the empty ally. "Damn, Aya. What have you done to me?"

He thought about climbing the stairs and knocking on his door. No words would be needed. Just actions. He made his way through the shadows of the first floor and climbed the stairs, but in the end, he bit back on the overwhelming urge to cross the hall, and took refuge in his own room. He would not make his needs known. He would not give Aya the chance to think this was all about sex to him.


	14. Rules of the Game

_Rated M for sexual content and mature situations._

_It occurred to me as I was writing this how darkly sexual it's becoming. It's not what I had originally intended, but I'm going with it because it's necessary to the story. But, really, Aya should be ashamed of himself, and right now I'm feeling like Yohji deserves so much better. _

_Thank you for reading and reviewing. Feedback is always welcome, and you're all being very encouraging._

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

_(edited for page break. I keep forgetting those things!)_

Rules of the Game

Yohji opened his eyes, ears alert, waiting the few seconds to again hear the knock at his door. Pushing up on his elbows, he turned to the alarm clock. Four fifteen. He had managed about an hours worth of sleep. If this was for a mission, he was going to be pissed.

He pushed himself up, rubbing his face and running his fingers through his hair, and thinking at least clearly enough to snag a pair of sweats from the dresser and pull them on before opening the door.

"This better be…"

Aya.

Standing in the hall, hands braced on either side of the door, head hanging down, face completely hidden by hair.

Thoughts raced through Yohji's mind, first and foremost was 'what's wrong with him?' which was quickly crowded out by the mission earlier that night and his thoughts before coming inside.

Aya raised his head, searching out Yohji's eyes with an expression that was primal and desperate. After the briefest pause for consideration, Yohji, without a word, swung the door wide and stepped back.

As Yohji had imagined the possibilities of this night in the alley when they arrived home, there were no words. Aya leaned back against the wall next to the door and shoved his boxers impatiently off his hips. Yohji moved to stand in front of Aya, watching as Aya freed straining flesh, pushing the boxers just far enough to be out of the way. Yohji was spellbound, simply staring, not caring that it might be impolite. He had seen Aya before, being patched up after missions in places that didn't allow for modesty, but this was different. He certainly had never seen him aroused, and the sight was doing strange things to him, hardening him, building tension through his lower body, making him feel far too warm.

Aya wrapped a hand around his neck, snapping him out of his reverie, guiding him forward and down, and there was no doubt in Yohji's mind, no mistaking Aya's silent command, as to what Aya wanted him to do.

He sank to his knees, crawling the last few inches to kneel at Aya's feet, and looked up the length of the smooth, pale body. Aya was looking down at him, eyes glittering, intense, his face drawn in need, and while Yohji wanted to kiss that mouth, soften the set of that jaw, Aya's hands were now braced around his face drawing him closer. He complied, rubbing his face into the sleek velvet skin before him, but Aya was having none of that. His hands positioned him, his thumbs working at the hinge of his jaw, demanding entrance, and while Yohji wanted to savor this first exploration, he was just as willing to give into Aya's desperate plea. He could explore later. He parted his lips, softened his mouth, and let Aya invade him.

His limited experience with men had initiated him to this pleasure, but had not nearly prepared him for this raw intensity. Aya set a rhythm immediately, forcing Yohji to concentrate on his actions; keeping the suction consistent, keeping his teeth out of the way, swirling his tongue over the tip as Aya withdrew, just before he thrust back in again, pressing his tongue into that vein as it smoothed along the underside of hard flesh. Aya didn't force, didn't push for more than Yohji could handle. He controlled the rhythm, but let Yohji control the depth.

Yohji wrapped one hand around the base, alternately stroking there and fondling the tightening flesh below, his other hand wrapped around Aya's hip to steady himself against the thrusts.

Aya's breathing turned rough, ragged, and a guttural moan was building in his chest. His hands clenched around Yohji's head as Yohji felt the flesh in his mouth spasm and then those hands clenched hard as Aya came in a rush with one harsh cry that tore from his lungs.

When the flesh softened in his mouth, Yohji drew back to rest his forehead against Aya's hip. Catching his breath, he nuzzled his face against the tender skin at the hip joint, running his hand from Aya's hip, where he was sure there would be bruising, up to Aya's waist.

Then, with a startled humph, he was catching his balance on his arms as Aya shoved him away. Raising questioning eyes, he was stunned at what he found. Anger. Cold, determined anger.

"Aya? What?" He choked out. What had he done? Or what hadn't he done?

"Don't." One word and Yohji had no clue what it meant.

"Don't what?"

"…touch me." Aya gritted out through clenched teeth.

Yohji wasn't sure what to say to that. He didn't have enough experience with Aya to know what kind of game he was playing, and he certainly didn't want to get it wrong.

"Okay. No touching." He could deal with a few rules, if he knew what they were. But now what? He leaned forward again, but stopped at Aya's outstretched hand. Aya turned away from him, shoving his pants further down, bracing his hands against the wall. The message was clear, but Yohji was frozen.

Aya turned, just his head, looking at Yohji over his shoulder, flicking his hair from his eyes impatiently. "Well?"

All Yohji could manage was a shake of his head.

"What? You don't want to?"

This was too much. Yohji took deep breaths, tearing his gaze from those hostile, piercing eyes, grasping for an explanation for Aya's behavior, scrambling through his interactions with Aya for a reason for the abrupt anger. He couldn't find one, but his feelings from earlier that night surfaced, and he knew that whatever game this was, he was not going to let it be about his pleasure. This night's pleasure would be Aya's alone.

He shook his head again, resolutely, but didn't dare speak. Aya's brow crinkled in puzzlement as he stared Yohji down, anger brewing again in the depths of those eyes, and then he was a fury of movement, pulling his clothing back in place and exiting the room.

Yohji rolled back until his butt hit the floor and pulled his legs up in front of him, wrapping his arms around his knees. Was Aya angry because he felt compelled to come to Yohji for release? Had he done something wrong, or something that Aya didn't like? And Aya offering himself like that; what was that? It was so…impersonal. Confusion and disappointment from earlier in the evening returned, settling once again somewhere deep within his chest as he rested his head against his knees, sighing in defeat; his brain was just not functioning enough at the moment for him to deal with Aya.

* * *

In the light of day, glancing at Aya across the shop, Yohji contemplated letting the entire incident go. Just reading in; that's what he was doing. The problem was that his heart wasn't buying what his brain was trying to convince him of, and as much as he knew direct confrontation was not the way to go with Aya, damn if he wasn't going to do it anyway.

He paced across the room to stand across the table from Aya, who acknowledged him briefly, but then turned his attention back to the book he was looking over.

Yohji waited, refusing to be ignored. He knew his intent presence would soon become annoying enough to draw Aya's attention back to him.

Aya sighed. "What is it, Kudou?"

He hadn't even looked up.

Feeling a bit desperate, Yohji didn't think before he acted, reaching out and pulling the book away.

That certainly did the trick. Aya's attention was now riveted on him.

"What, Kudou?"

"That's my question, Aya. What was all that about last night?"

Aya reached for the book, but Yohji pulled it further away.

"I have work to do, Yohji."

Yohji glanced down, finding the book to be some kind of flower guide.

"Answer the question, and you can do all the work you want."

"Hn. I wouldn't think last night would be such a mystery to you, Kudou. It's not the first time you've done it, is it?"

"No, Aya, but that's not what I meant."

"Then I don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't believe you."

The bell over the door rang. A small smile appeared on Aya's lips as he walked away. Cold, almost cruel, it was a smile Yohji didn't like at all.

"Not my problem, Kudou."


	15. Heart to Heart

_It's strange how I sit down with an entire conversation/scene in my head, with notes even, and it comes out entirely different than I thought it would. This is one of those, but I think I achieved what I was after._

_I felt the title of this chapter was deceptive because the heart to heart may not be between who you might expect, but this conversation (in some form or another) has been stuck in my head, and just seemed right, albeit a bit strange. If I managed to get completely ooc with anyone (for which I will apologize now), I'm sure someone will let me know!_

_It occurred to me after I finished this chapter that this may be the first time I've made any concrete timeline references in this story, so I figure I'll throw in a comment on that, for those readers who might be trying to make a connection. I'll be honest, I didn't worry about timeline too much, and I'm not going to, except to say that this happens sometime after Kapitel, and I'm selectively ignoring whatever came after. Is that vague enough? Yes, I had issues with this; it's okay if you laugh at me!_

_Thanks for reading and reviewing, and for all the encouragement! And for once, I think I remembered the page break!_

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Heart to Heart

"Hey man. You okay?"

Yohji grunted in response, not bothering to move. He hoped Ken would let it go at that, but no such luck. He heard Ken take a seat across from him.

"What's going on, Yohji?"

Yohji blinked. "What do you mean? Nothing."

He could hear frustration in Ken's sigh and guessed where this was headed. He wasn't sure he wanted to have a heart to heart with Ken.

"I was going to watch some television. I just never got to it." It was a feeble excuse, but he hoped it might work.

"Television, huh? You've been laying there like that staring at the ceiling for two hours now, Yohji."

Yohji blinked again, this time turning to eye Ken speculatively. "Has it been that long?"

"Yeah. You were supposed to be in the shop a half hour ago."

"Oh, crap." Yohji made to get up.

"Don't bother, Yohji. Omi's got it covered. Talk."

"I really don't think…"

"If you don't talk to me, I'm sending Omi in here. Whatever's going on with you, you haven't been this bad since that Neu bitch." His brow furrowed as a thought occurred to him. "Oh, please don't tell me it's that again."

Yohji pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to suppress the headache that was building somewhere behind them.

"I've so been there and done that. I know it's hard to believe, but I've moved on. I wish everyone else would."

Ken took a minute to take that in. Not the Asuka thing, huh? In his experience, though, it was always love that got the best, and the worst, of Yohji, and his latest interest was…A light sparked in his brain.

"It's Aya, isn't it?"

Okay, Yohji had been wrong. He would prefer a heart to heart with Ken; about anything by Aya.

"Look, Ken, it's really complicated."

"Isn't it always?"

Yohji barked a laugh. "Not according to Aya. Nothing complicated about it. Nope. Just sex."

Ken nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, sometimes that is all it's about."

Wincing, Yohji realized Ken was talking from his experiences with Omi, and that was so into territory he didn't want to go. He had no problem with Ken and Omi together, but he didn't want to think too hard about Omi in that light. He didn't want to hear too much about it, either.

"I know," Ken laughed, catching his reaction. "I won't go into details, but it's true. Sometimes it's just about the physical release."

Yohji knew that, but he was pretty sure, had seen evidence, in fact, that Ken's relationship with Omi was more than just a fast fuck after a mission.

"You and Omi have more than that."

"Yeah." Damn, was Yohji being cryptic. He thought back to the night he and Omi had come across Yohji in the hallway, exposed, flat on his back. It had never been spoken of again, but they had heard enough to know that Yohji certainly hadn't been alone.

"Don't you and Aya have…"

"An arrangement. That's what we have. Sex. Nothing more."

Ken didn't make a sound for so long that Yohji had to open to his eyes to make sure he was still in the room with him. Yeah, still there. Eyes wide, mouth gaping open.

"Yeah, I told you it was complicated."

Ken managed to find his tongue.

"That's not all it can be, Yohji." Shocked, adamant.

Snorting, Yohji sat up.

"Yeah? What makes you say that?"

"Because I've seen the way he looks at you."

It was Yohji's turn for silence. Could he trust Ken's observations? As if he could read Yohji's mind on that one, Ken continued.

"Omi's noticed it, too. We both thought it was about time you two did something about it. You know; that night..in…the…..hall." He stuttered to a stop, thinking he might have gone too far in mentioning that he and Omi had discussed that little incident, doing some faster thinking to try and get away from the discomfort he was feeling.

"Look, Yohji. Maybe Aya needs time. Maybe…maybe he doesn't know how it's supposed to work. We've all loved and lost; we know what it feels like. Aya's only had his sister. Maybe he doesn't know how it works outside of family."

Yohji found some small measure of comfort in that thought. Ken could very well be right. But as he listened, he recalled another time, when Ken had been on the receiving end, and he had been giving the advice to his.

"Ken? Do you think I'm hypocritical for wanting more? After what I told you about Yuriko?"

"Jeez, Yohji," Ken chuckled. "If I had taken your crappy advice, Omi and I would never have gotten together."

"What do you mean, crappy?"

"I figured you of all people would have figured it out by now, Yohji. Whether you think you deserve it or not, you can't help who you love."

Stunned, Yohji's brain reeled. Who was this man sitting in front of him that looked exactly like Ken? And…

"Then why didn't you go with Yuriko? You loved her, didn't you?"

"I thought I did, but your advice did make me wonder; did I love her, or did I love the idea of her, the idea that being with her meant I would no longer be part of Weiss? And when I thought about it, I knew that if I went with her, I wouldn't be free of Weiss." He shrugged. "It wouldn't have been fair to her, either way. Or to me. She was an innocent; being with me might have exposed her to our world. Besides, I would have never been able to be honest with her. I would have always had to hide some part of me from her."

He smiled warmly. "I don't have to worry about that with Omi."

"Is that why you hooked up with him?"

"Oh, hell no. It just took me forever to figure out he was interested. God, was I clueless."

Feeling better, Yohji chuckled at his discovery. "So, our tiger is bi. Who would have guessed?"

Ken stood, trying to wipe the blush off his face.

"More people, I'm sure, than would have guessed it of you, Balinese. I've got a workout to get in. Think about what I said, huh? Just make sure you show up for Omi's shift. He told Aya that you and he switched."

* * *

Omi's morning plans with Ken had gone out the window as he came down the stairs to find Ken trying to mollify Aya, who was enraged that Yohji had not shown yet. Omi had been quick to cover for Yohji, immediately diffusing Aya's hostility, and fortunately, Ken had followed his lead. He had managed a few seconds alone with Ken to make sure their plans could wait till the afternoon and to issue Ken an unofficial mission for the morning: Mission Yohji: Goal: To find out what the hell was going on.

Omi sat by the register, scanning over an order he had just taken while trying to hide his surreptitious glances at Aya, who was going about his day as if there hadn't been major fireworks that morning, but Omi knew something was seriously wrong, and though he hadn't mentioned it to Ken, he was pretty sure it had to do with whatever was going on between Aya and Yohji.

Damn. He had thought the two of them together would be a good thing. He hadn't figured on it making things worse.

He bit his tongue for about the fiftieth time that morning to stem himself from approaching Aya; he knew that would get him nowhere. Ken would get what he could from Yohji, and if he couldn't, Omi would.

Omi offered Yohji a tentative smile as he approached him, relieved that Yohji had shown up on time to take his shift. Maybe this was a good sign.

"Everything okay?"

Curling an arm over Omi's shoulders, he gave him a brief half hug.

"Everything's fine, Chibi. Thanks for switching shifts with me."

"No trouble, Yohji. I was glad I could help. Was Ken able to help you?"

Yohji resisted glancing at Aya. He had made up his mind that he was going to take Ken's advice and give it a bit of time, see what came of it, but he was not going to give Aya any reason to think they were talking about him. Shrugging, he smiled reassuringly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think he was."


	16. New Mission

_Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's all about the sex. I've tried to find a way around it, and my mind balks at telling a story through sex, but that's what it's all about at this point. As if that isn't bad enough, it's another dark chapter in what is becoming a rather dark story, and it's going to get darker before it lightens up. I'm not sure if I should be apologizing for that or not. I feel like I should, but then I think about where the story is going and figure it will all make sense in the end, and just hope that you all hang with me until then!_

_Thank you all for reading and for all the reviews and encouragement. I wouldn't be able to put up with Aya at this point without them!_

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic _

New Mission

Yohji kept Ken's advice in the forefront of his mind, repeating it to himself practically every other minute of the day as he worked, and by the end of the day, he had himself convinced that Ken was right; Aya just didn't know how this worked, and it would just take a bit of time.

Perhaps, Yohji also thought, hoped, Aya didn't know how serious Yohji was, how much Yohji wanted their arrangement to be something more than a bit of distraction, a way to burn off the excess energy. By the time he slept on it, enough of his confidence had returned that he felt he could show Aya how to be a little more giving.

Over the next week, he took advantage of the quiet down-time to observe Aya with others. He had watched Aya many times; he probably knew a vast amount about him that Aya wasn't even aware of. He knew Aya's favorite drinks and foods, from take-out to ice cream flavor. He knew what kind of shampoos and soap the man preferred, and that the man was almost obsessive about cleanliness. He even knew what kind of laundry detergent Aya used, and Aya's preferred choices of fabrics. He knew Aya liked to sleep on his right side, and that he was practically as still and quiet in sleep as he was in mission mode. He even knew which pair of shoes were Aya's favorites.

It struck him as odd now that one thing he hadn't noticed was how Aya definitively avoided any and all unnecessary contact with people. Yohji had never noticed how, even when handing items to customers and taking their money, Aya went out of his way to make sure their hands never made contact. He had never paid attention to how Aya, whenever possible, weaved and side-stepped nimbly to avoid brushing against people, not only in the shop, but even when he was walking down the street.

Maybe he was taking Aya's 'no touching' rule too personally. Maybe Aya just didn't like personal contact.

But then there was proof against that as well. He had seen Aya with his sister, had seen the way he held her to him, cradled her in his arms, and in a vague, hazy corner of his mind, he remembered Aya's hands on him, soothing him in fevered dreams.

The 'no contact' rule didn't apply to his teammates either, Yohji noted. Ken would often slap Aya on the shoulder while telling some story or other, and Omi was always reaching out to tap Aya to get his attention for something. Aya seemed to filter those touches from all others.

So, Yohji concluded, sex was different, a different type of intimacy than family, and certainly more intimate than teammates. Strange that it made Yohji feel like he was on the same level as all those complete strangers walking down the street, or coming into the shop.

As the end of the week approached, Yohji decided to take a small step towards a better understanding with Aya, catching up with him as he headed up the stairs after work.

"Hey, Aya. I was thinking of going out for dinner tonight. Want to join me?"

Aya didn't bother turning around.

"I'm not interested in dating you, Kudou."

As much as it stung, Yohji had been prepared for that one.

"I wasn't thinking of it as a date, Aya. We have to eat, right? Omi and Ken are coming, too."

"I said no." And with those curt words, Yohji was facing yet another door that had been slammed in his face.

Determined not to let this failure drag him down again, Yohji showered and changed, and then met Omi and Ken in the kitchen.

"He's not coming, is he?" Ken asked as Yohji grabbed his car keys.

"No. He's not coming." He paused, turning around. "Are we still going?" He didn't know why, but he was going to be disappointed if the answer was no.

Ken was already up grabbing his jacket from where it was slung across the back of his chair and Omi was shaking his head.

"Oh, no. We're going." Ken stated firmly.

Omi turned back toward the house.

"Should I go make sure…"

"I think we should just leave him alone, Omi." Despite Ken's idea, Omi turned to Yohji, who nodded.

"It's okay. Leave him."

Omi and Ken were actually very good company for dinner. Yohji couldn't tell if the two were trying to tone down their own relationship a bit; they kept any affectionate behaviors to a minimum, although Yohji couldn't help but notice how certain things remained, as if automatic, like how they reached for each other's hands when they were walking, or how Ken took care of ordering and paying without any discussion. Still Yohji left the restaurant, spirits lifted, feeling he had spent a good night out with friends.

He did, however, make sure to pick up dinner for Aya before he left, choosing from the menu one of the meals he knew Aya often ordered, and noticed Omi's small nod of approval at his actions. When he returned home, he left his two dinner companions in the living room, thanking them for their company, and headed upstairs, detouring through the kitchen to grab a set of chopsticks and a bottle of water.

He tapped softly at Aya's door, and only had a few seconds wait before it swung open.

"Manx stopped by while you guys were out."

Well, that explained why he opened the door on the first knock.

"Was she pissed that we weren't here?" Yohji kept his voice at an even keel, going for an easy-going, conversational tone. Better to keep it light.

"No. She said she'll stop by tomorrow."

Yohji held out the package with the utensils and water.

"I figured you might be hungry."

He fought to keep the casual expression on his face as Aya hesitated. He did not want to hint at how disappointed he would be if Aya turned down the friendly gesture, but his worry was unnecessary, since Aya finally reached out and took the offering.

"Thank you, Yohji."

Withholding the small triumph he felt, Yohji settled for making sure their hands innocently brushed as he passed the food.

"Any time, Aya. Good night." He turned away before Aya had a chance to make anything more of the exchange.

Yohji was going to bide his time. Inevitably, opportunities would present themselves; they already were. It all felt like a sound plan until Manx showed the next day with their mission orders, and Aya, after reading through the files, announced to the team that Omi was going in as his back-up. Aya seemed to be the only one who wasn't surprised by this decision, and though Yohji was bordering on taking it personally, he bit his tongue, and it was Ken who spoke up.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Aya?"

Aya wouldn't take his eyes from the floor. "It says in the file that there may be information on the upper floors that will need to be retrieved, a task which Omi is best suited for." No one argued that point. "Manx also expressed to me yesterday that there are certain concerns involving our personal issues and their effect on our group dynamics. She's concerned our missions might be affected. I thought it might be a good step towards alleviating her concerns."

Yohji was sure Aya wasn't lying about that, and he figured Manx's concerns were about his situation with Aya, but when he glanced at Omi and Ken, they were looking at each other.

"Aya?" Omi questioned apprehensively. He and Ken had been very careful, but…"Is she worried about Ken and I?"

Aya's head snapped up as if he were startled.

"No, Omi. I mean, she didn't mention specifically, and I didn't ask. I just assumed she was worried about all of us." He headed toward the stairs. "I took it as a request to prove to her that we are still fully functioning as a team."

They accepted the mission; on both levels.

* * *

Omi skirted the perimeter of the fence until he came to the break in the links and crossed through the trees and the old service road to join Ken and Yohji at the Van. Yohji searched the shadows over Omi's shoulder.

"Where's Aya?"

"He's right behind me."

They waited a few minutes, but when there was no sign of Aya, Yohji became antsy. Omi shrugged. "He should have been here by now."

Yohji started across the road.

"It's okay, Yohji. The building is clear."

"Then you don't need to worry." He picked up his pace, running as quickly as he could through the trees, stopping short when he came across Aya leaning against a tree. He stood up, hands working the buttons of his jacket and then tearing it from his shoulders as his gaze locked with Yohji's.

"I knew you'd come."

Aya turned on his com link, clearing the line and waiting for Ken and Omi to respond. "Ken, Omi, take the bike back to the shop."

"What about the mission, Aya?"

"Mission is complete, Omi. We'll be back in a while." He turned off his link, and motioned for Yohji to do the same. Watching his hands then go to the zipper of the leather pants confirmed for Yohji what Aya had in mind.

Yohji turned off his link and approached Aya slowly. Apparently, another opportunity was presenting itself. Stepping into Aya's space, hands on his shoulders, pushing him back until Aya's back hit the tree he had been leaning on, their lips would have connected if not for Aya's arm imposing itself between their bodies, shoving back harshly. Yohji dropped his head momentarily, but when he looked back up at Aya, the sexual hunger he found there stayed his disappointment. Aya pushed the leather from his hips, revealing the extent of his need in an erection that throbbed at its freedom, already leaking fluid.

Yohji licked his lips, preparing for a second taste of the addicting flavor that was Aya, but Aya had something else in mind, pushing the pants down past his knees and turning his back to Yohji, leaning his upper body against the tree.

Yohji's knees practically buckled at the thought of following through on the offer Aya had made to him previously. He had never thought to be in this position again, and he wasn't going to turn it down a second time. He managed his own buttons and zipper, practically whimpering as his own hard length was freed. Pushing up against Aya's back, he reached around to gather the moisture from Aya and added it to his own to ease his way. Smoothing the combined fluids over his burning flesh, he pressed the tip to Aya's entrance as he used one hand to steady himself against Aya's hip. Leaning his head against Aya's shoulder blade, he breached the tight confines of his body.

"This is strange, Aya. I always figured you for seme."

Aya barked a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a laugh.

"I figured the same of you, Kudou."

"Well, you know." He worked his way with small thrusts, "I'm for whatever keeps my partner happy."

"Hn." Aya grunted as Yohji reached full penetration. "In that case, don't worry, Kudou. I'll take my turn. Now," he adjusted himself, pushing back, "fuck me."

Oh God. Yohji was lost to that command, and for the next several minutes, his entire world consisted of nothing except violently grinding into the willing body before him and losing himself in that impossibly tight heat, in the way Aya was moving with him, in the sounds he seemed to be forcing from Aya's mouth with every thrust. The hand that was curled around Aya's hip smoothed over the rippling muscles of his lower abdomen to find Aya's hand already pumping the hardness there with a regular rhythm. Yohji rested his hand over Aya's, riding the rhythm with him, entwining their fingers until he could feel the silken skin thrust against his fingers as well. Aya's fingers flexed and reset themselves; there was a hitch in his breathing, and he whispered Yohji's name with a tone of warning. Yohji's other arm came up around the smaller mans chest, pulling him back against his chest, and he nuzzled against the back of Aya's ear.

"Let me, Aya. Please, let me."

There was a small amount of resistance still, but Aya finally gave up the fight, dropping his hand in favor of grasping the tree and letting his body thrust into Yohji's hand then roll back against him. Aya's capitulation was too much for Yohji, who dropped to his knees, taking Aya with him. A few more deep thrusts and he erupted, draining everything he was into the writhing body beneath him. He felt the thickness in his hand surge harder, heavier, and then Aya was pulsing in his grip, his fingers dripping with the release.

He dropped his head against Aya's back, holding the contact as long as he could, hoping beyond hope that Aya wouldn't push him away, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Aya was struggling out of his grasp, scrambling to his feet, practically tripping as he fought with the pants that were wrapped around his legs.

Yohji waited to catch his breath before kneeling up to adjust his clothing.

"Are you okay, Aya?"

Starting in the direction of the van, Aya stopped to stare down at Yohji briefly, clearly confused. From his position, Yohji thought he might extend a hand to help him up, but Aya wasn't so inclined.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Stalking off through the trees, he called back to Yohji over his shoulder.

"Don't take too long. It's late, and I've got to help Omi with the mission report."

Yohji wanted to believe that it was okay, that this was just a first step, and that somehow he would draw Aya out. However, as he watched Aya disappear into the darkness, he had the sinking feeling that the distraction Aya had promised him was turning into a bad thing and that despite the physical release, he would never find satisfaction in it, and that he might have been better with the original distraction and never having Aya.


	17. Bitter Truth

_The disclaimer: No, I don't own them, and, for now, I wouldn't want to own Aya._

_My warnings of the day: Rated M for SEX (I'm not even going to try to call it erotic) and dripping with ANGST. I never thought I'd write anything this dark! Yes, I promise it will lighten up! _

_Many thanks for reading, and a special thanks for the reviews. They are wonderfully encouraging._

_Enjoy. _

_fire mystic_

Bitter Truth

Gray. That's all it was; one big swirling mass of gray. It was what his thoughts would look like, Yohji thought, if they could be seen.

He had slipped up to the roof, seeking refuge from the painful mess his life had become, and was now lying flat on his back, arms thrown out to his sides, looking up into the heavens, thinking how ironic and appropriate it would be if those clouds simply opened up and poured rain down on him.

He lifted one hand to bring a lit cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply, the exhaled smoke blending in with the gray sky beyond. Next to his other hand was a can of beer that he had snagged on his way through the kitchen, but left unopened beside him, finding he didn't have a taste for it after all.

Five weeks.

It felt like an eternity, but he had resolutely stuck to Ken's advice, remaining patient, and trying not to pressure Aya while at the same time attempting, in little ways, to add intimacy to their encounters.

It wasn't working.

His patience was gone, and what went on between him and Aya could not, even remotely, be referred to as intimate.

Though Yohji hadn't known it at the time, that night in the woods had been the beginning of a pattern, and while Yohji didn't like the design of it, Aya seemed perfectly comfortable in it, and refused to be swayed in any way.

It was ironic and sad, really. Ironic that though Aya had made the original offer, expecting Yohji to take him up on it at every turn, Aya remained the one who always initiated. And damn if Aya wasn't the picture of delicious, wicked seduction when he wanted to have sex. His eyes glittered, his voice rasped, and his body practically hummed with an energy that never failed to threaten Yohji's sanity. It was sad because, while he allowed Yohji to touch him, it was only to bring him to release, and he never touched Yohji. It was sad that kissing was apparently prohibited. It was sad because afterwards, Aya not only distanced himself again, but shut down completely, becoming mean, and, at times, bordering on cruel.

Yohji rubbed his eyes harshly, trying to cool the burning sensation that had built as he thought back on the past few weeks.

He had been resolved, but his resolve was gone. Aya left him feeling weak, unable to express his true feelings, desperately grasping at whatever little bit Aya would give him, even if all it amounted to was a hard, fast fuck in a dark corner. Aya left him feeling defeated, giving him nothing but the barest essentials and then turning away.

Worse, though, Aya left him feeling used.

Oh, the irony. Somehow, Yohji couldn't bring himself to appreciate it.

He heard the door opening off to his left and flinched. How pathetic had he become, wanting Aya so badly, and yet here he was hiding up on the roof and hoping it wasn't Aya coming to look for him. This was an eye-opener; he hadn't realized how badly he was hurting.

Bracing himself, he turned to find Ken walking toward him. Ken, who, with Omi, had been more than understanding over the past weeks. Silently supporting his efforts, offering friendly companionship when Yohji seemed down, the two had done everything but hold his hand.

"Hey Ken." He hoped Ken wouldn't notice how relieved he sounded.

"Hey, man. I didn't want to bother you, but Manx called and asked us to do a bit of surveillance for a mission profile they're working. You up for it?"

Oh goody; another night sitting in the dark, probably in the cold, probably with Aya, and waiting for both something and absolutely nothing to happen.

The beer was starting to sound like a good idea.

He sat up as he stubbed out the cigarette, and then stood, bending to pick up the unopened can as he joined Ken.

"Yeah, I'm good."

* * *

Black. He was surrounded with it; the sky, the shadows, the silhouette of his hand as he held it up in front of his face. Yohji searched the surrounding darkness, glancing up into the sky, and wasn't sure if it was an improvement over the gray of late afternoon or not.

As he had predicted, nothing was happening, and he was having a hard time keeping his attention constantly focused at the dark.

Then Ken broke radio silence with one word.

"Schwarz."

He didn't need to say more. Yohji whipped around as if expecting one of them to be breathing down his neck, mostly dreading he might catch a flash of orange hair. He would be eternally grateful if he never had to face Schuldig again, though he knew that was unlikely. Fortunately, there was no sign of any of them, but then Ken was somewhere on the other end of the compound. With any luck, they would stay there.

"God, get a grip, Kudou," he muttered to himself.

He worked his way back into the shadows to resume his surveillance, his heart nearly pounding out of his chest when a hand gripped his shoulder.

"Easy, Kudou."

"Fuck, Aya. Don't do that." His nerves continued to jangle, tensing his muscles, electrifying his skin. What the hell? He couldn't remember ever being this jumpy.

Aya spun him into the solid surface of the wall, holding him there with a hand pressed to the center of his back.

As quickly as Yohji heard the zipper of Aya's pants, the nervous tension within him turned instantly sexual. And this was part of the problem, part of why this had continued for so long; part of why he never turned down Aya's offers. All his concerns were immediately lost in the face of Aya's suggestive expectations. Within that moment, he forgot everything except this desperate, burning need to be with this man, and every conscious thought narrowed its focus until nothing existed but the two of them. What else mattered?

Aya shoved him into the wall, scraping Yohji's cheek against the concrete surface, drawing a surprised gasp of discomfort from Yohji. Aya ignored the sound, following up with tug to Yohji's belt.

"Get them off, Kudou. You wanted me to top. Or have you changed your mind?"

Yohji opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Despite his promise, Aya had not followed through until now. Yohji couldn't make sense of it, but Aya had let him keep the dominant role. Now he was turning the tables. Was it because Schwarz was there? Did Aya feel like he had something to prove, like he needed to assert himself?

To hell with it. Yohji didn't care. He wanted this too badly; in a corner of his mind, Aya taking him meant Aya also wanted him. Maybe this was the breaking point. Maybe Aya was beginning to understand.

In answer to Aya's question, Yohji shoved the leather from his hips enough to spread his legs and give Aya access. Forgotten were the mission, Schwarz, and his own insecurities. From the first nearly brutal thrust, Yohji was lost. Biting into the sleeve of his mission coat, he stifled the cry of pain from that first thrust and the bite of Aya's fingers into the tender flesh of his hips, but the pain soon dissipated, overtaken by physical pleasure.

Removing one hand which had been grasping at the wall, he tried to draw Aya's hand from his hip to the aching, throbbing heat between his legs. Aya's hand slipped from his, returning to his hip, and Yohji repeated the motion, only to have Aya jerk it back. It hadn't merely slipped; it was intentional.

Aya was refusing him his pleasure.

He pounded that fist against the wall as he grounded out his plea.

"Please, Aya."

He almost sobbed with relief when Aya's hand left his hip of its own accord, but then it was wrapping around Yohji's fist, drawing it down, making sure it was firmly wrapped around his erection before he once again withdrew his hand.

Yohji's heart stuttered. This action, Aya's refusal to take care of his pleasure, his insistence that he do that for himself, hurt more than any of Aya's other cruelties. His body, caught in the heat of the moment, automatically did what was expected, took care of the need. He felt the release within him as Aya came silently and his own bittersweet release flooded his fingers in that moment of stillness before Aya pulled away, retreating physically as well as emotionally.

There was a thump somewhere in the darkness, not far from where they were and, without looking, Yohji knew Aya was gone, focused now on their safety and securing their position, flowing into the darkness in that ethereal way he was so gifted with.

Aya would never know about the tears burning Yohji's face. Aya would never hear the muffled, wretched sob that escaped Yohji's throat.

Yohji straightened his clothes and turned against the wall, sliding down to the pavement, scrubbing the moisture from his face and dropping his head into his hands, pressing his palms into his eyes.

Whatever this had started as, whatever Aya had intended, whatever Yohji had been expecting or hoping for, he was left with only one feeling he could put a name to.

He felt broken.


	18. Reversal of Fortune

_Warnings for this chapter: A bit of colorful language, adult situations, extreme angst._

_Oh, this chapter has been brewing in my mind for so long, it's almost a relief to write it, even though it twisted me up to do it._

_If I did my job well, I made this clear in the story, but just in case: Italicized dialogue in the second half of the chapter is to indicate Aya flashing back to the conversation from the first half of the chapter._

_As always, thank you for reading, and for all the incredible reviews and feedback. _

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Reversal of Fortune

Aya ran. Mission complete, he had told Omi to leave him and he had run, hard and fast, until he collapsed against a wall in an empty alley gasping for breath. He couldn't do it; there was no escaping what he was running from. He couldn't get away from himself.

He could have run further, would have, in fact, if he were not being followed. He had to find out who it was and take care of them. He could not lead anyone back to the shop.

He used the appearance of being out of breath as a ruse, hoping to draw out his pursuer with the deception of weakness. He covertly scanned the alley, the surrounding buildings, but there was nothing there. It was still and quiet for so long that doubt started to creep in; maybe he had been wrong. Maybe his overtired mind was playing tricks on him.

He jerked at the sound of chuckling, turning in the direction of the sound, but unable to find its source.

"That was smooth, Fujimiya. And so deliciously sweet." The voice relocated after each sentence. "Tell me, do you treat all your lovers that way?"

Aya braced himself, refusing to play this cat and mouse game, especially when he had become the mouse.

"Fuck you, Schuldig. Show yourself."

"Tsk, tsk, Abyssinian. Ready again so soon? Are you offering me the same deal as Kudou, because, I'm so sorry to say, I would have to decline. I am, apparently, not nearly the masochist Kudou is."

He appeared at the edge of the alley, walking slowly towards Aya.

"Why are you here, Schuldig? Jealous?"

"Jealous?" He scoffed. "Of what?"

"Of not getting what you wanted."

"You mean Kudou? I didn't want him, Aya. I was just playing with him. He's such a mess, you know, and all because of you. Absolutely delicious. But what you're doing to him now; oh it's so much better. A veritable feast. I'd like to know; was it your intention to break him? Or should I consider that dessert?"

Aya had never had much success fighting with Schuldig, but he wondered now if his fury was enough to enable him to do some damage.

"You don't know a damn thing about me. Or Kudou."

Schuldig's eyes narrowed, but his smile was smug. "I know enough."

Aya was shaking his head, unable to fathom why he was going to defend this to the likes of Schuldig.

"Kudou understands. He knows I don't care for him."

Schuldig was suddenly close enough that he reached out and adjusted the lapel of Aya's mission coat.

"Do yourself a favor, Abyssinian. Lie to yourself if you like, lie to Kudou, but don't insult my talent by wasting your time lying to someone who can read the truth straight from the source."

Aya flinched, giving Schuldig exactly what he had been looking for; another member of Weiss burned on his playground. Schuldig couldn't help but try for the coup de grace. Backing away, he nodded at the katana at Aya's side.

"Why don't you just run him through, Abyssinian? Or perhaps, on second thought, maybe that's a bad suggestion. It wouldn't be nearly as painful as this little game you're playing, and it would ruin my fun." He cocked his head to the side as he backed down the alley. "I'm almost proud of you Abyssinian." He was gone, his last words echoing faintly behind him. "And to think, they call me Mastermind."

Aya stared as the space Schuldig had been occupying, unseeing, unable to even force himself to move. He could feel his heart pounding, in his chest, in his head, a rhythmic tantrum to accompany his broken thoughts.

Schuldig had run _him _through more effectively with words than he could have with a blade.

As if he didn't know the pain he was causing Yohji, denying him any affectionate gestures; denying him anything that might lead Yohji to believe what they had meant something more to Aya than a physical release.

As if he wasn't in pain as well, keeping his feelings a close-guarded secret, trying to protect Yohji, trying to protect himself.

As if he needed to be reminded of what a complete bastard he was being.

Aya became slowly aware of his surroundings, finding himself on his knees, head hanging, staring at the ground, sucking in harsh breaths as he watched his tears splash the pavement.

* * *

It was morning before Aya managed his way back to the shop. The door swung open upon his arrival, Omi stopping short at the sight of him, Ken nearly running into Omi's back.

Omi had been beyond relieved to hear the key in the lock, but his relief quickly dissipated. Aya was still in his mission gear, which, considering the early morning light and the first stirrings of people on the street was a dangerous thing. Hopefully Aya had been smart enough to stay hidden, but Omi wasn't sure if that had been the case, and, considering the state Aya was in, was afraid to broach the subject. Aya looked like death, paler than usual, his features drawn, his eyes pinched with fatigue.

"Aya! Are you all right? We were so worried about you. You're not injured, are you?"

Aya was too tired for Omi's exuberance. On the verge of collapse, he desperately needed sleep; then, maybe, he would be able to think clearly. He pushed past Omi, shrugging his coat off as he went.

"I'm fine, Omi. I was following up on a couple of things. I need to get some rest. Is the shop covered?"

Omi glanced at Ken before answering. "We've got it, Aya."

Aya nodded, heading for his room on leaden feet in search of oblivion. As he passed Yohji's door, he hesitated, an imagined picture of the man sleeping flashing through his mind, raking at raw nerves that had been exposed. He moved on to his own door and swung it open, and there was the man who had haunted his thoughts for the past hours, days, weeks; haunted him since he had discovered Yohji's feelings for him.

God, he couldn't do this now. Whatever Yohji wanted, Aya just didn't have the strength for it.

Yohji stood as Aya entered the room, leaving the door open.

"I'm tired, Kudou. Can we do this later?" He wasn't even going to ask what 'this' was. When Yohji didn't move, Aya let the door close behind him, dropping his coat on the chair and walking to the dresser to set his katana on its stand.

From somewhere behind him, Yohji spoke. Aya thought he felt the blood freezing up in his veins.

"It's over, Aya. Our agreement. I'm out. I'm done with it."

Aya couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe. First Schuldig, and now this. It was too much for him to process. He forced the calm into his body, forced the wheels of rational thought to turn.

Maybe this was a good thing. If Yohji walked away now, he was off the hook. He would no longer have to worry about the pain this was causing both of them.

All he had to do was let Yohji walk out the door.

Yohji stared at Aya's back, watching the muscles tense and flex, and waited for some kind of response, at least some acknowledgement. He felt he was entitled to at least that. He waited long enough for it to become clear Aya wasn't going to even give him that.

Aya heard him turn, his previously overloaded senses now painfully acute. He heard the rustle of Yohji's shirt as he reached for the doorknob, heard the minute jing of metal as his hand made contact. It was like an alarm, jolting him into the awareness that he couldn't let this happen without an explanation.

He let the single word slip past his lips as he heard the smooth turn of the knob.

"Why?"

Yohji wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. He had wanted Aya to acknowledge him. He had even wanted to explain. Somewhat. He hadn't expected this; Aya surprised him by asking for the explanation. He released the doorknob, inhaling deeply, and turned back into the room, bracing himself to say what he needed to say.

"I can't do it anymore, Aya. I thought, that first night, that it would be enough. I had wanted you for so long, but had thought it would never happen. When it did, I thought it was more than I could have hoped for, and I was starving for whatever you were willing to give me. I figured whatever that was, if only a small taste, it would be enough."

"_But what you're doing to him now; oh it's so much better. A veritable feast."_

Aya had turned to face him, eyes a bit wide. Of all the expressions Yohji had come to be familiar with on Aya's face, this was not one of them. He had no idea how to read it or what it meant. He forged ahead anyway.

"It wasn't enough, Aya. I hoped to show you it could be more than just sex, tried to show you it meant more to me, more than the distraction it was meant to be, but you pushed me away."

There had to be some way to stop this, to keep Yohji from further illustrating his pain. Could he use Yohji's argument against him? "Aren't you the one always warning us that wanting more is a bad idea?"

Yohji dropped his gaze for a moment. "Yes, I've said that." He brought Aya back into focus, the eye contact painful. "But it doesn't make what I feel, what I want, go away."

"I never promised you more, Yohji." Explanations or not, he would not be deterred; he had to keep pushing Yohji away. It was for the better, he was sure.

"I know, and I tried to believe it was enough, but what you refused me cut me to the bone."

"_Why don't you just run him through, run him through, run him through…"_ The words echoed through Aya's mind. _"…It wouldn't be nearly as painful as this little game you're playing." _

Aya knew he would regret asking; knew he wouldn't be able to handle the answer. It didn't stop him.

"What more did you want?"

"Oh, God, Aya. I want it all. I want to feel your hands on my body, to know you enjoy me doing the same. I want to feel and hear your pleasure and give you mine. I want to kiss you. Long and hard, soft and tender, however you like it; I want to be able to taste you, to feel your tongue against mine. I want to be able to reach out and simply touch you, or hold you, and know that it's okay to do that. I want to hold you when you sleep, or to be held; it wouldn't matter as long as I could go to sleep with you pressed against me and know that you would be there when I woke up. God, what I would give to wake up with you curled in my arms."

Aya couldn't look at him, bowing his head, clenching his eyes closed against the images. How could he look him in the eye and lie?

"_Kudou understands. He knows I don't care."_

"I never said I cared for you, Yohji." He cringed at the hardness in his voice, and couldn't get his mind to stop screaming at him. 'God, how can I keep doing this to you, to me?' he thought. 'If you only knew how much I want those things, too. If you had any idea how it scares the hell out of me.'

Yohji sighed. "But you do care, don't you, Aya? You and I both know you would be lying if you said you didn't."

"_Do yourself a favor, Abyssinian. Lie to yourself if you like, lie to Kudou…"_

Yohji didn't bother explaining; he didn't have to. Aya's silence, his stillness, was enough to confirm his conclusion.

"I don't know why you've denied this, Aya, denied me, us, but it's breaking my heart, and I think it would be less painful to let it go and not have you at all than to continue this."

There. He had said his piece. He had even managed to do it without breaking down, but he could feel the tears burning at the back of his eyes. He turned away and opened the door before the tears could slip and betray how broken he was. He paused there, feeling, knowing he had one more thing to say to Aya. It probably didn't matter at this point, and could very well be unfair to Aya, but he wasn't leaving without saying it.

Closing his eyes, he felt the first hot tears trace a path down his cheeks, but managed to keep his voice steady and even.

"I love you, Aya. I've loved you, I think, since the day I met you, and I know I always will."


	19. Coming to Terms

_My apologies for the long wait on this update. Hopefully, though, the length of the chapter will make up for it. (I think this may be the longest I have ever written). I had a great deal of angst (my own, for once, not theirs) writing this chapter, worrying over getting it right and trying to get all the nuances accurate. There was so much running through my head that it was overwhelming! I hope I did it justice. _

_I'm going to acknowledge up front that I have completely messed with the story line, time table, what have you, especially considering Aya's sister, and I am obviously completely ignoring the OVA and Gluhen. I've been juggling how to handle this since I began this; originally, I was going to stick to the Kapitel timeline, and then WHAM! Schuldig and Neu completely overturned that. I'm not worried about it. I just wanted you to know, in all fairness! __Also, there is mention of Takatori Tower. I don't know if that's what it was called. If not, it is now! (at least for the purposes of my story)._

_Thank you for reading and for all the wonderful feedback and comments. _

_Enjoy_

_fire mystic_

Coming to Terms

Yes, frozen was the correct word.

That's what Aya was. That's how he felt. If people had thought him cold before this moment, they should see him now.

It might have been funny, but somehow he couldn't see the humor past the blinding, searing pain he was in.

His exhaustion had fled; there was no way he would be able to sleep now. It felt like reality had fled as well, and he didn't know what he could do to get it back. He looked blankly at the empty doorway, then around his room, completely unable to process what had just happened, only able to feel the final resulting blow.

It was this daze that Omi managed to infiltrate. He was standing in front of Aya, his hand on Aya's forearm.

"Aya?"

How had he gotten back downstairs again? He looked back towards the stairs as if there was an answer waiting there for him, but it was just one step after another. He turned back when Omi said his name again, but couldn't focus on Omi, settling instead for a spot somewhere beyond Omi's shoulder as he pushed past.

"I'm going out, Omi."

"Out? But you're in no shape to drive! Aya?" He followed Aya out to his Porsche, and resorted to holding the door closed until he could get some further response. "At least tell me when you plan on getting back."

Aya pulled the door open despite Omi's hand. "I don't know." He slid down into the car. "At least call us." Omi managed before the door shut. He was left staring after the car as Aya drove off in a not-so-straight line.

Ken came out to the sidewalk to meet him.

"What was that all about?"

"I don't know, but I'm worried about him."

Ken looked down the street as if he could still see the car. "Don't worry, Omi. Aya will figure it out. He always does."

Omi wished he felt as sure about that as Ken did.

Ken was hoping he wasn't giving Aya more credit than he was due.

* * *

His direction was completely aimless; if he cared, he would have been grateful that he hadn't ended up in an accident, but his brain wasn't functioning well enough to be that aware. When he finally came to a stop, he was both surprised and yet not so to be sitting in the hospital parking lot, looking blankly up at the rising stories of the building.

It made sense that he was here, oddly. This was the one place where he had always been able to come to put things in perspective, to remind him why he did what he did, of the purpose of his sacrifice. In those few moments with his sister, sitting at her bedside, holding her still, limp hand, he somehow found an inner calm, like the eye at the center of a storm.

But she wasn't here anymore. Finally awake, she had been swept away by Kritiker to gain a long overdue education. And to find out the truth about her brother. Aya didn't expect to ever hear from her again, didn't expect for her to forgive him for the life he had led, even though it was all for her, but she was alive and awake, and that made the further sacrifice worth it.

But that respite in the storm was gone. The only thing that brought him peace now was…

Yohji.

He shook that thought away. That was dangerous. The idea was nothing more than an invitation for pain. Even now, it was wrenching at his heart. Especially now, as he had finally managed to push Yohji to turn away from him.

So where to go? He wasn't sure. He searched the parking lot, the lines of cars that abstractly reminded him of tombstones lined up, and with that image, he found his answer.

In the cemetery, he found the stone he was looking for; not the stone that memorialized his parents, but his own, the stone that read 'Fujimiya Ran'. Nothing like being reminded you were dead. Ran, the human part of him, was gone, dead and buried, and all that was left was the assassin Aya, Kritiker's dog of war. He had given up his life to avenge his sister and with it the right to his own happiness. His words to Sakura had been simple truth, brutal as they were. He didn't deserve to be loved. And even if he had wanted her love, how could she have ever loved him, truly. How could anyone; they couldn't understand who or what he was, not really.

But when he was with Yohji…But that path had been cut short. He had seen to that, hurting Yohji with his own selfishness, and now that option was gone, leaving him feeling as cold as the piece of marble engraved with his name.

He turned away from it, unable to look at it any longer.

The places, endless in number, became a blur. What was left of his burned out shell of a childhood home, Takatori Tower, the stretch of road where his sister had regained consciousness, overlooking a coastline where, just a bit further down, Weiss had crawled from the water, beaten down, but victorious.

Aya's first thought had not been for his sister. Oh, no. The first thing Aya had done was check for Yohji, who was laying in the water some dozen or so paces from him.

Slowly, surreptitiously, Yohji had crept past his defenses, slipping into a part of his heart that he had thought long dead.

Aya couldn't shake it, couldn't leave it behind, and couldn't ignore it. Everywhere he went, everywhere he searched, and every thought that frantically raced through his mind, seemed to have only one solution, kept leading him in one direction. Yohji.

Finally out of choices, running became pointless. He had to confront this directly.

For three days he wandered. One place or another, long roads, and longer hours of thinking. He occasionally stopped to eat and clean up a bit, and when the fatigue had finally overtaken him, he would pull over and sleep in his car, but when he returned to the shop, his decisions were made, his course set.

* * *

He stood in the empty kitchen, turning a slow circle, marveling at how different he felt it should be, but how it hadn't changed at all. He walked through the house, finding no indication that anyone was home, but he could hear voices from the shop, so turned in that direction. It was as good a place to start as any.

The shop was empty except for Omi and Ken sitting at the table talking quietly. Ken saw Aya first, his eyes widening as he sat back, but he didn't say anything. Omi turned to see what had caused such a reaction, and sat back as well. They both looked tired, but unlike Ken, Omi still gave him a slight smile.

"You're back." He sounded relieved, and it occurred to Aya that they might have thought he wouldn't return.

"I said I would return. You shouldn't have worried."

Ken abruptly stood. "It's been three days, Aya, and you didn't bother calling. We've had to cover for you in the shop and with Manx while we worried about you and took care of Yohji. What did you expect?"

Aya blinked. "Yohji? What happened to Yohji?"

Ken was gripping the back of his chair hard enough that his fingers were white. "Do you even care?"

Omi pushed to stand between them, turning to Aya.

"Nothing happened, Aya."

"That's crap, and you know it, Omi." Ken hadn't moved any closer, but he made sure he had a clear view of Aya. "He's shut himself down, Aya. He hasn't said more than ten words in the past three days. He hasn't smiled, he's hardly eating, and other than covering his shifts, he spends all his time locked in his room. Whatever happened between you, you did a real bang up job, Aya."

Omi had stepped closer to Aya, almost as if he would reach out and touch him, his expression shocked and sad, leaving Aya to wonder what Omi was seeing that would cause such a gesture.

"Where is he now?"

"Like I said…"

"He's in his room, Aya," Omi interrupted. "I don't know what to tell you. I'm not sure if you should try to talk to him or leave him alone."

He nodded once, turning back to the rooms beyond the shop. It didn't matter what Omi thought. He knew what he had to do.

"You know," Ken called after him, and he stopped to listen, not turning back. "Some day, someone's going to break him beyond repair. There won't be any healing or picking up the pieces. You better hope that person isn't you, Aya."

The tension escalated with the thinly veiled threat and all three men remained locked in place for a moment. Aya broke the tension with a quick nod of acknowledgement before heading upstairs.

He didn't bother going to his room. If he stopped, he might lose his courage and he wasn't going to let that happen. He knocked lightly on Yohji's door, and a vague "yeah" was the response. Without announcing himself, he opened the door and slipped into the room.

Yohji was lying on his bed, curled up on his side, back to the door. He turned long enough to register his shock at seeing who was there, leaning against his door, head hanging, and then he returned to his original position. With that brief glimpse, Aya saw that Yohji looked as bad as he felt, drawn and pale, tired.

"What do you want, Aya?" Even his voice was tired. And resigned. Maybe this was worse than Aya thought. Maybe, as Ken had pointed out, there would be no fixing this.

He pressed his hands against the cool wood behind him, his nerves curling them into fists.

"I…Yohji…I don't know how to do this."

Aya hoped, in the silence that followed, that Yohji would offer him some advice on how to continue. It didn't happen.

"Seems like we've been there, done that, Aya."

Aya felt as if he had been dismissed. Should he just turn and leave? Was it possible for him to make things worse?

He approached the bed slowly, turning to sit on the edge of it, back to back with Yohji. Maybe it would be easier if he didn't have to look at the man.

"Will you hear me out?" No response, but Yohji wasn't kicking him out of the room, either. He took that as permission.

"I didn't make that offer for you, Yohji. I made it because I thought I could get what I wanted without any consequences. It was for my own selfish reasons.

"I hadn't realized how you felt about me, or how much that would mean to me."

The bed shifted ever so slightly as Yohji rolled on his back so he could see Aya, a bit of his profile, the slump of his shoulders, the way the hand he could see was gripping the edge of the bed, knotting the blanket within clenched fingers.

"We're bloodstained, Yohji. No matter what we do now, we have this responsibility that is Weiss. How can we find passion or…love…in that? How can we feel it, or even think we deserve it? And how would that be fair to who we're with? So I did what I did to keep distance between us. Just fucking, without the emotional strings. That's allowed, isn't it? That way we both win, and no one can get hurt. That's what I argued with myself. I thought you believed that too, and that would make it all right."

Through all the hurt he felt, Yohji knew this was not easy for Aya, that this confession was costing Aya a great deal. That price was reflected in the tone of his voice, the defeat in his posture. Aya was giving Yohji more truth than he had ever hoped to hear from him, and as if his words were not enough, the message between the lines wasn't lost.

"When I'm on a mission, when it's the power of sharp steel in my hands, it all makes sense. I know who the bad guys are; I know what has to be done. I know the pain I can inflict, the damage I can cause, the death I can deal.

"I know where I stand."

Yohji's hand was reaching out, and he hesitated, fighting his compulsion to touch, to comfort. Aya was opening up to him, but it didn't mean that his preferences had been a lie. Maybe he didn't like to be touched. Yohji wasn't sure, but it seemed the opportunity to find out might be presenting itself.

The question for Yohji was, now that Aya was giving him part of what he wanted so badly, was he still interested in the answers. What was Aya doing here, telling him all of this? Was it just for his information, an explanation of why everything turned sour? What was Aya trying to say? What was he trying to tell him?

He decided to hear Aya out.

"This, between us; I don't know what to do with it. I don't know anything about these feelings, other than the pain and loss they can cause. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, how I'm supposed to react. I don't know how to care, to love. I don't even know if I deserve a chance to find out."

"That's not true, Aya." He could no longer help himself but to reach out. Aya may not be aware of it, but Yohji knew he was capable of so much more than pain and death, and wherever Aya was going with this explanation of his, whatever else came from it, Yohji was going to make him aware of that.

Whipping his head around, Aya didn't make direct eye contact, but it was clear he was puzzled.

"Not true? What part of it?"

"You weren't a virgin, Aya." He was pretty sure of that. There had been no hesitation in Aya's actions when they were together. "How can you say you know nothing about it?"

"No, I'm not, but it's never been about anything but sex."

Now, that was surprising. Aya had _never_…

"You've never had sex, made love, with someone you had feelings for?"

Oh, that was just sad.

"No." Aya wanted to add 'until you', but that wasn't fair. He hadn't allowed it to be anything more.

"But you know how to express your feelings, Aya; I've seen you with your sister."

"She's my sister, Yohji. Family. That hardly counts. She's all I have left of the me that existed before I became what I am."

"But I've seen you with her. I've seen you standing over her hospitable bed. I've seen the way you hold her, the way you look at her. It was tender and warm, concerned, loving. That alone is proof that you are still human."

"Yohji…"

"There's more, Aya. One kiss, that's all we've had, and you pushed me away, but not before you reacted. Tell me I'm wrong."

Aya didn't respond. What could he say? That kiss, the longing it created within him, the confusion, had scared the hell out of him. Pushing Yohji away had been his only defense at the time.

"You also carried me out of that building that night."

"I would have done that for any of you."

"Yes, but would you have cried over Omi or Ken?" He knew he was taking a chance on this one, and hoped his dream memory hadn't been his imagination

Aya did look at him then, his eyes wide, panic filling them. Yohji's answering smile was sweet and understanding. "Yes, I remember that. And you took care of me. It was your hands, your voice, soothing me in my nightmares, wasn't it? You wouldn't have done that if you weren't capable of caring. You wouldn't have sat up and watched over me, taken care of me, either.

"I know what you do, Aya. I know all about the blood on your hands. And I've seen the person you are despite all of that. I know who you are, and I know you are not the monster you think yourself to be."

Yohji moved so he was more fully facing Aya. It was time to find out what this was all about.

"Why are you here, Aya? Why are you explaining all this to me?"

Aya's eyes were closed, and Yohji could see his throat working.

"If it were nothing but sex, I would have been able to let you walk away, but when you refused me, I…realized I couldn't do it. I had to know why. I had to try to understand why it wasn't enough."

Aya was fighting to find his words. Yohji witnessed the struggle, knew he couldn't push too hard, and knew Aya had to do this at his own pace.

"And now?"

"Now…I want…I came to ask if you would give me a chance."

Yohji fought down the elation that surged through his heart. A chance for what, exactly, Aya hadn't yet made clear.

"What do you want from me, Aya?"

Aya was looking down at his hands, which were now knotted in his lap.

"I want you to understand. I want you to know how hard this is for me, how impossible it all seems to me. I want you to tell me that I haven't fucked up too badly for it to be fixed."

"And if I agree?" He wanted to agree, God how he wanted to agree. But crashing once with Aya gad been bad enough; he didn't think he would survive it again.

"I can't guarantee anything."

That wasn't what Yohji was looking for.

"But I'll try, if you'll help me. I've lost everything I've ever cared about. I can't lose you as well."

Yohji watched his hand reach out and trace down the muscle of Aya's arm. Aya startled a bit but then relaxed into the touch.

That alone practically made the decision for Yohji.

"Do you really not like to be touched?"

Aya covered Yohji's hand with his own, holding it to him.

"I love to be touched, but I usually don't allow it."

But he was now letting Yohji touch him. Yohji leaned in, close enough that his hair skimmed Aya's hand.

"And kissing?"

"Same."

"It scares you, doesn't it?" He knew Aya as someone who conquered his fear, but this would be the kind that might be his undoing.

"Yes."

And he was putting himself into Yohji's care, asking Yohji to guide him in this, asking him to be patient enough for Aya to overcome that fear.

"Do you trust me, Aya?"

"You know I do."

"Will you trust me in this? Will you trust me to walk us through this?"

Aya's breath trembled as he nodded.

Moving slowly, Yohji swung around to sit behind Aya. This morning had been déjà vu in more than one way; first Aya showing up with his 'I don't know how to do this', and then Aya coming to sit on the edge of his bed as he had in his dream, still as vivid to Yohji as the morning he had woken from it. He mirrored that dream now, placing a leg on either side of Aya.

"I had a dream like this once, Aya. You came into my room and sat here, and I sat up behind you just like this and held you against me."

Hands on Aya's shoulders, he encouraged the slightly smaller man to lean back, rubbing his hands down his arms to sooth him.

"Then what?" Aya surprised him with the question; he was full of surprises today.

"You put your hands on my knees."

Aya did so as if Yohji were giving him instructions he needed to follow, but there was nothing stilted about it. He pressed his palms down into the tight flesh before curling his fingers just above the knee and giving a slight squeeze.

"Then I kissed you." Yohji brushed the strands of Aya's hair back and pressed two fingers into Aya's neck. "Here." He circled his fingers in a simple caress.

"I want you to let me know when you're ready for that kiss."

He leaned forward, resting his chin on Aya's shoulder.

"Like I said before, when you came to me like this, one step at a time, Aya, and we'll see where that takes us. Slow and easy; that's what this needs to work. A touch here, a kiss there, but no pressure. Everything in it's time, when you're ready for it. Let me spend time with you; you don't have to talk if you don't want to, and believe it or not, I can be quiet. Have dinner with me, or lunch, or even breakfast, doesn't matter which. Watch a movie with me, or anything you want. Let me touch and kiss you; nothing outrageous or overt, but something simple to remind you I'm here for you. I promise to keep them appropriate. I won't molest you in the shop or in front of Omi and Ken. Does that sound okay? Do you think you can do that?"

Except for permission for these few things that most lovers took for granted, he wasn't going to ask Aya for anything right now. His agreement would be enough for now and possibly more than Aya was comfortable with.

Aya wasn't responding, and Yohji nearly drew back. Had Aya just realized this was more than he could handle after all? Better to find out now than...

Aya's fingers stroked over his knees, massaged into his skin.

"I think I can do that." He turned his head until Yohji could feel his breath against his cheek.

"Do it, Yohji." He pushed his neck back where Yohji's fingers lingered. "I'm ready."

As Yohji had observed, he was full of surprises.

"Are you sure?"

Aya bowed his head, exposing his neck, and Yohji pressed his lips to that spot, teasing at the soft hairs there. Aya hissed in response, and Yohji lingered for a moment before drawing back.

One step at a time, he reminded himself. Slow and easy.


	20. Going on Faith

_I realize this is a short chapter, but it felt right to end it here. I hope this brings some relief after all the angst._

_Thank you for reading and reviewing. The feedback is wonderful and much appreciated. November 1, 2009: Big thanks to Marasmine (amazing author of "The Reality of Dreams) for pointing out a couple of grammatical issues in this and last chapter. They are fixed now (took me long enough, huh?). If you find others, please let me know, and I will get to them in time. I did not find the problem with chapter 11. Am I missing something, or was it resolved? _

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Going on Faith

Caution.

That was the word of the day for Yohji.

He wasn't naïve enough to think that the intense conversation he had with Aya meant everything was going to suddenly be fine.

In fact, Yohji was pretty sure it would be anything but easy. He half expected to walk into the shop to find Aya ready to take back everything he had said.

He had finally managed a full night's sleep. Actually, it had been more like twelve hours, but he had needed it. Not only could he not wind down from the decision he had made, but he still couldn't help but worry about Aya, especially when he found out Aya had left. He had spent the entire three days wondering if Aya would return, or if hunting him down would become their next assignment. He was still tired, but at least Aya's return and subsequent disclosure had given him hope that things were looking up.

The sight of Aya misting flowers didn't help to reassure Yohji. He looked pissed. Pissed and completely closed off. Yohji couldn't come up with any other description, and he felt a cold numbness settle somewhere in the vicinity of his heart; maybe he had guessed it right, that Aya would take it all back.

Omi was sitting at the table, pouring over some kind of paper work and Yohji decided he might be the safer bet this morning.

"Hey Omi, how are things going?" He dropped into a chair and glanced at the paperwork as if he really might be interested.

Omi glared didn't have nearly the intensity of Aya's glare, but something was clearly not right.

"I don't want to talk about it right now." Omi was speaking very succinctly, and tilted his head in Aya's direction as he spoke.

Yohji took the hint, but purposefully didn't look at Aya.

"Not having a good morning, huh?"

"Wait a minute." Omi looked from Yohji to Aya and back again. "This is the most I've heard from you in days. I thought…but he's…are you feeling better?"

Yohji shrugged, not giving anything away, and stood up.

"Mind if I get some coffee?"

Omi frowned at him, disappointed at not getting the information he wanted.

"Go ahead."

Yohji wandered back to the kitchen, feeling awkward, his usual casual demeanor feeling completely forced this morning. Don't overreact; he kept repeating the words in his head. He didn't know what was going on, and he wasn't going to jump to any conclusions, and, he had decided, he was not going to back down from trying to keep the communication flowing with Aya. But he was also not going to approach Aya with an audience.

The coffee made him feel better, a little more like himself, and the shop was busy enough to let the morning pass quickly. Aya was quiet, nothing new there, and seemed to be fine with returning to work. Even Omi was smiling again by lunchtime. Just can't keep a good chibi down. Yohji insisted Omi take lunch first, quelling his protests and assuring him he and Aya would be fine alone. He waited until he was sure Omi wouldn't be bopping back through the door and the browsing customer had left before he slowly approached Aya, brushing past him, not quite touching, and propping himself against the counter, his hand coming to rest between them. He extended his fingers to catch just a bit of Aya's work apron, tugging at it lightly.

"Everything okay, Aya?"

He had gone still at Yohji's approach, and Yohji couldn't tell if Aya was watching him or very carefully not watching him. In either case, he was aware of Yohji, and was now staring down at Yohji's hand between them and Yohji wasn't even going to guess what his expression meant. He released the tiny piece of cloth. Better safe than sorry.

He heard Aya's indrawn breath, saw the effort Aya made to relax his shoulders.

"I'm fine." He didn't sound fine. He sounded tense. Nervous?

"You want to tell me about it?"

Aya was still studying that hand.

"Not now."

Yohji hoped that was because they were in the store, that there would be a later.

"Are we okay, Aya?"

Silence. Stillness. Then, so slowly, Aya lifted one hand and touched just the tips of his fingers to the back of Yohji's hand. Yohji's attention was also now on the two hands, and he held his breath at the slow slide of fingers until Aya's palm rested against him. As slowly as Aya had approached him, Yohji was even more hesitant, turning his hand with painful care until their palms lined up together.

"I'll take that as a yes."

* * *

The expression of relief on Omi's face when he returned and found Aya and Yohji had survived their time alone was so comical that Yohji had to hide his smile. Perched behind the register as Omi came through the door, he was still basking in the warm, fuzzy feeling that small contact with Aya had left him with, made all the more special because he knew what an effort the completely unexpected gesture had been on Aya's part.

"Your turn, Aya." Aya glanced up at Yohji, shaking his head.

"You go. I want to finish this." The arrangement looked fine to Yohji, but he didn't argue the point. Aya wouldn't give up on it till it met his standard. Besides, Yohji had an idea.

"Okay. I'll be back soon."

A couple of blocks over, Yohji ate a quick lunch, and when he returned half an hour later, he wasn't empty handed. Entering the shop, he placed a bag of takeout on the counter where Aya was just cleaning up. Aya studied the bag as if it were a foreign object, and then studied Yohji in much the same way. Yohji smiled softly.

"It's one of your favorites." Although Aya sometimes went out for lunch, it wasn't common. More than likely, he would eat while sitting on the couch with a book in one hand.

Aya opened the bag, took a peek inside, eyes widening, and Yohji thought he caught a small smile somewhere in there. He looked pleased, at least.

"Thank you, Yohji."

"My pleasure. Enjoy it."

Yohji expected nothing in return, but his gesture did not go unanswered. Later that night, lounging on the couch in front of the television, Yohji couldn't help but wonder what Aya was cooking; the delicious aromas coming from the kitchen were making his mouth water, his stomach growl. He was gradually giving up on fighting his hunger, getting ready to go find something for dinner, when Aya came in and placed a plate on the table in front of him along with a bottle of beer.

"I made enough for two," he stated simply.

Yohji was disappointed when Aya retreated back into the kitchen, but after a few seconds, he came back with a plate of his own and a bottle of water, curling up in the chair so he could see the television.

It was nothing new, eating together like this in the living room. Various team members often ended up eating together like this on any given night. It was a casual thing they were all accustomed with. It was comfortable.

Yohji stared at Aya, who had taken something he was familiar with and purposefully turned it into something else entirely.

"Thanks Aya."

He didn't wait for anything more beyond Aya's acknowledging 'hn'. Anything more would have been expecting too much.

He glanced at his plate, picked it up, and started to eat.


	21. Sleepless Nights

_The scene jump, which not only goes from Yohji's pov to Aya's, but jumps to a scene that occurs later that night involving something I haven't touched on before, seemed like a natural progression as well as a further glimpse into Aya. I did worry, though that it might seem disjointed to others. I had a scene written in between involving Omi and Ken, but it just wasn't doing it for me. So if it IS annoyingly disjointed, let me know and I will consider revising._

_Thank you for reading and for all the wonderful feedback._

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Sleepless Nights

Yohji was impressed with how well Aya had responded when Yohji had voiced concern but not pushed the issue. Yohji made a mental note of that for the future.

Of course, he had to find a way to bring it up again, try to find out what had irritated Aya first thing in the morning. He waited after they had finished the wonderful dinner Aya had made them. They were sitting in companionable silence, watching television, Yohji pleased that Aya hadn't deserted him after finishing his meal. Aya seemed content watching whatever was on; Yohji wasn't even sure what movie it was. He was too distracted with Aya sitting there with him. He sat waiting for his opportunity, and finally drummed up the nerve during a commercial break.

"Hey Aya? I really would like to know what happened this morning. If you want to tell me, that is."

His shoulders tensed as he waited out Aya's reaction, but nothing drastic or dramatic happened. Aya glanced over, not completely making eye contact, and shrugged before turning back to the commercial.

"Omi was being Omi."

Yohji almost bust out laughing. Leave it to Aya to find a way to explain everything perfectly in four words.

"Too happy, too nosey, and asking too many questions." Yohji filled in the gaps.

Aya nodded.

"Like I said."

Of course that would tick Aya off. He wasn't up to having to explain this to anyone; might not be up to it for a long time. Or ever.

"He's worried about you. And me. You know Omi. He wants everyone to be happy."

"I'd be happier if he'd leave it alone."

"Might as well ask a fish not to swim."

Was that a smile twitching at the corner of Aya's lips? Oh, this was just too good.

"I think he got your message Aya. I don't think he'll be so bubbly about it in the future."

The back door opened and closed. Yohji remained as he was, reclined on the couch, but he noticed that Aya sat up a bit straighter in his chair.

"Easy Aya. We're just watching television." It was more than that, and they both knew it, but for all intents and purposes, that's exactly what it looked like.

The refrigerator door opened and closed, and a few seconds later, Ken appeared, helmet under one arm, two bottles of water in the other hand. He hesitated, taking in the living room scene, eyebrows raised, and then stepped further into the room.

"Hey guys. What's going on?"

Yohji glanced back over the arm of the chair. "Just catching up on some bad acting." That certainly wasn't a lie. Yohji hadn't been paying attention to what was on, but what little bit he was catching was awful. "How was your day off?"

Ken was staring at the back of Aya's head.

"Uh huh." He nodded. "Bad acting; whatcha watching?"

Yohji had no idea.

Apparently, neither did Aya. His shrug was the only thing that even acknowledged Ken was in the room. He stood up then.

"I'm tired." He announced, and that simply, left the room.

Ken stared after him.

"What was that all about?"

Yohji turned to the television. "I thought it was pretty clear."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Did you two figure things out?"

"We're working on it."

"What does that mean, Yohji?"

"It means that we've come to an understanding." Yohji felt talking about it in any detail was a betrayal of Aya's confidence, but in all fairness to Ken, after the advice he had given him and the support he had shown, Yohji needed to give him something more than complete vagueness.

"Let's just say that you were right in your advice Ken, and that we're on really shaky ground right now, but we're working it out."

Flipping his hair out of his eyes, Ken bit his lip, nodding.

"I know I told you to give him a chance, but I hope you don't get hurt, Yohji."

Yohji stood up, stretching, and clicked the off button on the remote.

"Thanks, Ken, but I think you need to let me worry about that. I'm not walking into this blind; I know the risks."

He bid Ken goodnight and left him standing in the center of the room.

"I hope so," Ken said to the empty room, and then headed upstairs as well.

* * *

Aya woke in the dead of night, trembling, cold sweat dampening his skin, a choked sob caught in his throat. For a few minutes, he thought he was going to be sick, and he fought the nauseating fear that was enveloping him, trying to calm his breathing, trying to get some perspective in the dark room.

He couldn't recall right away the details of the nightmare. All he could see in his mind's eye was the lifeless form of his sister's body sagging in his hands, broken and covered in blood.

He clutched at his chest, feeling his heart pounding within. This was quickly becoming his most common nightmare, never failing to have the same result. He knew his sister was fine; Manx had been very good at providing him with updates concerning Aya-chan's welfare. Still, the nightmares persisted.

Unable to go back to sleep, he got up and paced the room. If tonight was like previous nights, there may be no more sleep for him. It was beginning to wear on him, leaving him exhausted, and his opening up to Yohji had brought many of his fears to the surface.

He curled up in his chair when his own pacing started to annoy him. He was not going to let this get the better of him. He had something to look forward to now; Yohji. It scared him, what the future might hold, both if it went well with Yohji and if it went badly, but talking to Yohji, letting him in, had also felt so right. Yohji understood him, made him feel good, both comfortably and sinfully, and even if he was still having issues with whether they deserved this chance or not, it had given him hope.

As the first light of morning began to brighten the sky, he decided to call Manx and check on his sister, just to be safe, for his own reassurance. Of course, everything was fine, and Manx once again reminded him to stop worrying so much, as if that were possible. His mind put at ease for the moment, he headed off to shower, hoping the hot water would wake him up enough to function and sooth what remaining tension was left in his body.

When he came out of the shower, towel wrapped around his lean hips, hair dripping, he stepped out into the hall to find Yohji waiting on the opposite side of the hall. Whether he was waiting for Aya or the bathroom, there was no way to tell.

Yohji's mouth went dry at the sight of Aya in nothing but the towel. He thought of all the possibilities this moment could present under different circumstances, but reminded himself to show restraint. His eyes skimmed down Aya's body, back up, and he studied Aya's face.

"You look tired." Really tired, Yohji thought, and he was glad he had kept his initial urges to himself.

"I didn't sleep well." That wasn't so uncommon.

"Couldn't? Or nightmares?"

Aya leaned against the door jamb, rubbing his eyes with on hand. The shower hadn't worked as well as he wanted it to.

"Both."

Yohji came to stand beside him, letting their shoulders touch, even as Aya moved to leave room for him to get through the door. "You know you don't have to go through it alone, don't you? You don't have to tell me, don't have to talk, but my door is always open. If you think it will help. You can just sit, or lay down, whatever." He brushed his knuckles against Aya's. "At least you won't have to be alone."

Letting the offer stand, he continued into the bathroom and closed the door softly behind him.

Aya looked down at his hand where Yohji had touched him, feeling certain he didn't deserve such tender caring, and astounded that Yohji was offering it.


	22. Overcoming Barriers

_I argued with myself over the pacing of this from before I even started this chapter, and then the breakthroughs in it threw my whole internal argument out the window, in both directions and in more ways than I thought possible. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but I'm going with instinct, and I hope you enjoy where that winds up._

_Thank you for reading and reviewing._

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Overcoming Barriers

Yohji had it figured out. Somewhat. Give and Take; it was a concept that Aya had proven he understood on more than one occasion, at least when it came to food. Yohji knew there was more somewhere under the surface and hoped that in a matter of time, perhaps, he could get Aya to expand the basic concept to include his feelings. Now all he had to do was find opportunities he could take advantage of as well as ways to push the envelope, so to speak, without scaring or angering Aya. He had a feeling that would be the tricky part.

Aya didn't look much better when he appeared in the shop that morning than he had when Yohji had seen him in the hall. On his way through, he inconspicuously placed a cup of tea down on the counter where Aya was working with a softly spoken "I thought you might need this". Yohji had never seen Aya drinking tea at work before, but today, Aya picked up the mug and sipped at the hot liquid. A few minutes later, Aya brought an arrangement up to the counter for pickup, brushing past Yohji and pausing just long enough to whisper "thanks Yohji". Yohji couldn't respond; he was too busy wondering if Aya had brushed against him on purpose.

Then, as if to crush any hope that things were looking positive, a young woman approached Aya to ask him a question, clearly frustrating him. In an attempt to help, Yohji sidled up behind him, placing his hands on Aya's upper arms, and leaning over his shoulder.

He felt the tension tighten Aya's body, and managed not to wince visibly. Perhaps touching him in public at this point was too much. He lightened his touch, but didn't remove his hands; this wasn't anything he wouldn't do with Omi or Ken, and at some point Aya was going to have to figure that out.

Smiling brilliantly at the customer, he kept his voice cheerful.

"Let me get this, Aya." He used his loose hold to guide Aya to his right; for all intents and purposes, it would look to the customer as if he were simply moving Aya aside. "I know you have that arrangement in back that you wanted to finish."

They both knew there was no arrangement, but Aya took his cue, leaving Yohji wondering at the strange expression on his face. He expected Aya to be angry about being touched, but what he saw there was something else entirely; disappointment maybe.

The customer didn't seem at all displeased that Yohji was helping her. He turned the charm up a notch, keeping her distracted from any reaction she might notice, and made sure she was happy with her purchases. As she left, he glanced at the door Aya had disappeared through and decided waiting for Aya might be the better option than to check up on him.

When the door opened, however, Yohji was sorry he had waited. Gone was the unreadable expression from before, but in its place was a hard indifference. Yohji knew that expression. It was the one that made it painfully clear, without the need of words, that Aya had thrown the shields into place and was hiding somewhere within, most likely fostering pain or a deep-seated anger that Aya didn't know how to deal with.

It also meant that whatever progress they had been making may have flown out the window.

Unfortunately, Yohji didn't have an immediate opportunity to find out. The shop remained just busy enough to keep them from a private conversation, and the one thing Yohji was sure of at this point was that the last thing he should do was bring up anything personal within even remote hearing distance of anyone else.

It was a painful wait until Ken and Omi showed up. Yohji could feel the barrier around Aya solidifying with every minute that passed, and even constantly reminding himself that he may be overreacting did nothing to ease that feeling. By the time Ken came through the back door, it was all Yohji could do not to drag Aya out of the room and demand an explanation. Like that would even work.

Ken recognized his distress, raising an eyebrow and very carefully not glancing in Aya's direction.

"Hey guys," he greeted them both. "Been busy today?"

Aya promptly dropped his clippers, muttered something about an errand, and left.

Ken turned to Yohji.

"What happened?"

Shrugging, Yohji pulled off his apron.

"Can you handle things? I'm going to find out."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Ken asked ominously, speaking to Yohji's back.

Yohji wheeled around long enough to ask his own question.

"Do you think it's a good idea not to find out?"

And there was the problem with Aya, or one of the many. One never really knew what the best course of action would be.

Yohji knew there was no errand. That had merely been the excuse Aya had made for his escape. Yohji checked through the house as he went. Either Aya had left, or he had retreated to his room, or possibly the roof. Climbing the stairs, he tried to think through what he was going to say, how he was going to handle this, but directness seemed like the best policy. Aya's door was closed, and he paused to rap against the wood gently.

"Aya? You in there?" No answer. "Aya, we need to talk."

It occurred to Yohji that he could very well spend a great amount of time repeating those words to Aya, trying to draw him out.

He waited a minute. Still no answer. He was halfway down the hall on his way up to the roof when he heard the door open behind him. Aya was nowhere in sight when he turned, but that he had opened the door was a step in the right direction. At least he was admitting they needed to talk.

Walking back slowly, contemplatively, Yohji entered the room and closed the door behind him. Aya was standing at the window, looking out. Yohji approached slowly, trying to keep the tension out of his body. He stopped a couple of feet behind Aya and looked out the window over his shoulder. What did Aya see when he looked out there?

"What's going on, Aya?"

There was no acknowledgement that he had spoken, and Aya didn't seem to be inclined to rush his reply. Yohji had to bite his tongue to keep from repeating himself. Instead, he took a step in what he thought might be the right direction.

"I'm sorry, Aya. I wasn't trying to push you. I would have touched Ken or Omi the same way."

"That's not it."

Okay. Getting a response was easier than he had thought it was going to be. But if that wasn't it, what was the problem. Everything had been fine till then.

"Then you have to tell me."

Aya sighed. He knew how awful this was going to sound.

"Did you think she was pretty?"

Yohji stared at the back of Aya's head. What the hell?

"Who?"

"The customer. This morning."

The illumination was blinding. Aya was jealous.

"Honestly, I didn't notice, Aya."

Aya turned his face further away from Yohji. Still hiding.

"You don't have to lie to me, Yohji. Why else would you have done what you did?"

Oh, the misunderstanding was painful.

"Aya, I helped her because you looked irritated. I did it for you, not her."

"It was okay, you know? All the women. I could deal with it, even if it distracted you on a mission."

Damn. Aya was talking. And the revelation left Yohji dumbfounded.

"It pissed me off. And it hurt. But as long as it helped you keep functioning, keep sane." He paused, rolling his head to release tension. "And it gave me an excuse to ignore my own feelings."

Yohji swallowed. Hard. He had ignored his feelings for Aya for years, till he couldn't any longer. It had never occurred to him that Aya had feelings beyond their recent encounters. How long had he been unknowingly hurting Aya's feelings? How had he been so oblivious?

"How long, Aya?" He didn't think he needed to elaborate.

Aya glanced back over his shoulder at Yohji. "I've always found you attractive. Who doesn't? When did I realize it was serious? I think it was when we were separated; when I took my sister, and you met Neu. I missed you. And then we were back together, and I wanted to kill that bitch for you, but I couldn't, because I knew you would never forgive me. And I didn't think it would make a difference."

Oh, fuck. Aya. How had he kept this to himself?

"And when we washed up on the beach after that showdown with Schwarz, I…You were the only person I was worried about."

Yohji let that tumble in his mind for a few minutes, and then asked what he needed to know.

"What changed?"

Aya tracked a bird with his eyes as it flew across the sky.

"Schuldig."

What?

"What did Schuldig have to do with it?" What had he missed?

"Like I said, Yohji, I could deal with the women, even other men; but not with Schuldig." He brushed a hand over his face. "Please tell me you didn't…"

Hands circled his upper arms again.

"We've already discussed this, Aya. I've never lied to you." He moved till he was a hairs breadth away from Aya's body, giving those biceps a squeeze. "This is okay?"

A simple nod. Yohji leaned in so he was nearly resting his head on Aya's shoulder. But not quite.

"And it was okay, me touching you like this in the shop this morning?"

Another nod. Progress; at least now Yohji had an idea of what would be allowed when others were present.

"And when we're alone?"

Aya surprised him, answering with actions, not words. He closed that bit of distance between their bodies, leaning back into Yohji's chest, creating a line of contact that tingled along Yohji's nerves. Dropping his hands to skim along Aya's waist, he circled them around to lightly hold Aya in a loose hug. When Aya didn't protest, he took another chance, flattening his hands against his stomach, letting one hand inch up to press against the center of Aya's chest.

He expected Aya to bolt at any second.

Instead, Aya sighed, reaching back to flex his fingers against Yohji's thighs, and leaned his head back against Yohji's shoulder.

Yohji's eyes slipped closed as he buried his face in the crook of Aya's neck, nuzzling against the smooth skin there and the feathering of hair tickling against his face.

Aya was letting him hold him, hug him, and Yohji was excruciatingly aware of the delicate balance of the situation. It seemed the most natural action in existence to press a kiss to the tender skin beneath his lips, but he made it brief, just long enough to catch the frantic patter of Aya's pulse, feel the pleasure raze through Aya's body in a fine tremble, and then he simply held him.

The startled tension in Aya's body when there was a soft tap on the door was unmistakable, and Yohji had a split second to decide whether to hold on or to release him. While he didn't want Aya to feel trapped, he chose to hold on as Aya grew stiff in his arms.

"Easy, Aya." He breathed in his ear. "The door is still closed." He massaged his fingers into Aya's skin, waiting for him to once again relax. It wouldn't happen entirely, but when the tension eased a notch he caressed his hands down Aya's chest and stomach and backed out of the hug slowly.

"Aya?" Omi's voice, tentative. Yohji recognized it for what it was; Omi was trying not to interrupt.

"Yeah. Give me a minute."

The tone in his voice drew Yohji's attention back to him. It was weak and breathy, giving Yohji an idea of how much Aya had enjoyed the tender, innocent contact between them. Aya took a deep breath, as if drawing himself back into reality, and turned slowly, glancing at the door, letting his eyes remain there.

"Thank you, Yohji." He made very brief eye contact, enough to see the sincerity in Yohji's expression. "Can I…will you...would you mind…"

"Any time, Aya, whenever you want."

He nodded once, but confusion remained.

"But will you let me?"

Yohji curled gentle fingers around Aya's chin, turning his face, but not forcing him to look at him.

"I knew what you meant, and I meant what I said. Any time."

* * *

That now familiar panic once again wrapped itself around him, ripping him from sleep, but the nightmare was not so easily lost. As he went through all the same motions he had gone through night after night for so long, the only thought that brought him the slightest piece of mind was the offer Yohji had made. He didn't have to be alone.

Earlier that morning, he had been so hurt by something he had completely misunderstood. His first reaction when Yohji had touched him in the shop had been a secret thrill at his touch, wrapped up in fear that Yohji might push too hard. How quickly that feeling had changed when he found out, or thought he had, Yohji's motivation. It had been a reaction of jealousy, and he had acted like an ass, but Yohji had taken the time to find him, talk to him. Comfort him. And when Yohji had placed those hands on his arms again, he had felt like melting against the solid warmth behind him, and when Yohji offered him that chance, he grabbed it without a second thought.

It had felt good. No pressure. No expectations. Simply Yohji holding him. He had never imagined it would feel like that.

And now he sat in the dark, unable to bring himself to walk the few steps down the hall to ask for that feeling again. God how he wanted to, no, needed to, get over this. He had been the one that had asked for a chance at something real, and now he was too…scared, yeah that was the word, to let it happen in any important way. Every small step they took felt incredibly right, even as it scared the hell out of him. Is this how everyone felt? Was this how it was supposed to feel? He didn't have the answers, and that frightened him all the more.

It was his inability to accept this fear that prodded him into action. Unable to deal with his own cowardice, he stepped silently out into the hall and walked the few steps to take him to Yohji's door.

About to knock, he hesitated, another round of insecurity ricocheting through his mind. Was Yohji serious when he had made the offer? Or was he simply offering to be polite? Would Yohji see this as a weakness? If he did, would he even care, or would it matter? What expectations might Yohji have?

Brief seconds later, Aya bypassed the door and went into the bathroom instead, leaning against the sink counter and studying the dark hollows around his eyes created by lack of sleep, and then splashing cold water over his face, around and over the back of his neck, uncaring that he was soaking the neck of the old t-shirt he wore. Not bothering with a towel, he shook the excess water from his face and hair and stepped back into the hall.

He was going straight back to his room. He would do his best to sleep. He would…he paused again at Yohji's door, and unable to help himself, in a moment of weakness he knew no one would witness, he reached a hand, placing it against the cold wood.

All he had to do was knock.

If he didn't knock, he would never know.

The three soft taps barely made a sound in the darkened hallway.

Aya held his breath. Maybe Yohji wouldn't hear him. Maybe Yohji wouldn't answer, not really wanting to be bothered. Maybe…

The knob turned and the door swung open. There was a soft glow of light surrounding Yohji as he studied Aya's face, and Aya wondered, strangely, if Yohji slept with a light on or if he had turned it on when he heard the knock. Why was he thinking of things like that? Yohji looked sleepy and rumpled, even though he didn't have a shirt on, and Aya was changing his mind, thinking he shouldn't have knocked, that he should have let Yohji sleep, that the last thing Yohji needed was…Yohji's eyes focused and his lips turned up in a gentle smile that was warm, welcoming, and understanding as he reached out a hand to cup Aya's damp cheek. When he stepped back into the room, arm still extended, Aya followed, keeping that warm contact against his face. Once he was in the room, Yohji dropped his hand so he could close the door, and then went over to the bed, sitting on the edge.

"You want to talk?" It was a soft, raspy whisper. Aya had to clear his throat twice before he could speak.

"Not really." But it wasn't that he didn't want to share. He just didn't feel like talking about it. "It was…another nightmare." That should explain it.

Yohji nodded, pushing back to sit on the bed, cross-legged.

"Are you tired? You look exhausted."

It was Aya's turn to nod. Was Yohji going to suggest he go back to bed and try to sleep?

"You want to try to sleep here?"

Aya looked around the room. Where would he sleep? The chair? The floor? He hadn't known what to expect, but that wasn't it, and Yohji was…chuckling.

"In the bed, Aya." He scooted further back on the bed and held out a hand. "Come on. Lay down. If you want to talk, I'm here. If not, at least get some rest, even if you can't sleep."

That fear was back; it was another step in a direction he was so unfamiliar with, and yet it felt like the right step to take. It seemed like the bed was miles away, but it was only a few short steps until he turned and sat on the edge, feeling strangely awkward. A pillow thumped down next to him at the head of the bed.

"Would you rather have your own?"

Aya shook his head. Yohji's voice was almost too intimate.

"No. This will be fine." He lay down on his back, resting one hand on his stomach and crossing the other over his eyes. He felt the bed shift as Yohji moved, and lowered his arm to find Yohji pulling the sheet and blanket up over them both and settling down on his side to face Aya, leaning his head up on one hand, his other resting against his waist, fingering the edge of the sheet which came up just past his hips.

Aya inhaled and, for the first time since he entered the room, realized he was surrounded by Yohji's scent, his skin, the cologne he wore, his soap and shampoo, on the sheets, on the pillows, in the room, and it had the odd, unfamiliar effect of calming him. He rolled his head to look at Yohji, who was watching him with concern. He had released the fabric he was playing with and his hand now rested on the small space of mattress between them. Aya's gaze shifted from Yohji's face to that hand and back again, and held as he reached for that hand and drew it to rest with his on his stomach. Yohji slid closer with the motion, and Aya rolled away, onto his side, drawing Yohji's arm around him as he did so. Yohji molded his body to Aya's, curling around him, drawing him closer, and it occurred to Aya that once again, Yohji had his back, defending him against yet one more enemy, this one his own personal demon. That thought alone reassured him, and into the care of someone he trusted, whose scent was familiar, whose arm was wrapped securely around him, his hand now firmly pressed over his beating heart, whose body warmed his, Aya succumbed, his breathing evening out, his eyes growing heavy, his body relaxing as sleep finally claimed him.


	23. The Morning After

_Apologies for the lull between updates. For those who have been reading my journal, you know I've been having issues fighting writer's block, and while I've been able to do a couple short fics, the longer ones (which require the most concentration for me to keep things consistent) are giving me the most trouble, so they're the ones that have suffered the most. _

_There's a little more Omi and Ken in this one, though, as you'll see, it's with a purpose. I'm enjoying them, though, and hope that you will as well._

_Thanks much for reading and reviewing. You're feedback is wonderfully helpful and encouraging._

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

The Morning After

Aya. That's what Yohji was aware of when he woke. That's what he had been aware of, even in sleep, since Aya had climbed into his bed and pulled his arm around his waist. Aya was a warm, solid presence filling his arms, Yohji's cheek resting against the back of Aya's head, which was pillowed on his arm, his nose buried in the thick wave of hair.

He remained as still as possible, not daring to move, hardly daring to breathe. He didn't want to risk anything that might possibly spoil this moment, this fantasy come to life.

He felt Aya's muscles tense and dreaded that reality was about to burst in on his dream, that Aya was going to wake up a complete mess, regretting his decision to come to Yohji. In response to Aya's stirring, Yohji hugged him tighter, rubbing his hand in a small, soothing circle over Aya's chest, and spoke in a low, smooth whisper.

"Shhh. Sleep, Aya. I've got you."

Then Aya flexed, so much like a cat, Yohji thought, curling into a tighter ball, pushing back into the warmth of Yohji's body. Had he even woken? He made a gentle mewling sound and the tension drained from his body, once again relaxing him into Yohji's arms, his breathing evening out.

Oh God. The pleasure of that moment swelled within Yohji's chest, threatening to burst out in some form or another, a laugh, a sob, a sigh of pure bliss, and he was hard pressed to contain it, but he managed. Aya had desperately needed sleep, and in Yohji's arms, in his bed, Aya had finally managed to find it. He had slept soundly, even peacefully, Yohji hoped, not shifting more than a few inches within his arms the entire night, and Yohji refused to be the disturbance that woke the man. Checking the clock, he knew Aya still had a couple of hours before he needed to go downstairs to the shop, and he would see to Aya's comfort until the last possible moment. He snuggled back down into the pillow and Aya's hair, closed his eyes, smiling, satisfied. Whatever regrets Aya might have upon waking, he would deal with when the time came.

Aya was warm and comfortable when he woke, his limbs heavy with the relaxed languidness of waking from a deep sleep. He was immediately aware of his surroundings, even before opening his eyes, knew by feel and scent that he was in Yohji's room. There was no sense of confusion, no panicking, no fear, and best of all, there had been no nightmares.

He was firmly entangled in Yohji's arms, but, surprisingly, he didn't felt trapped. Trying to be considerate, he attempted slipping out of the bed without waking Yohji, but every time he moved, Yohji adjusted for him, to him. Realizing it was an effort in futility, he finally gave in and touched Yohji's hand, capturing it between his own hand and his chest, and spoke the man's name softly.

He felt the minute difference in Yohji's body, the slight winding of tension that said he was awake, but he didn't move, didn't let go.

"Okay, Aya?"

"I have to go to work, Yohji."

Yohji raised himself enough to see the clock over Aya's head, and only then did he pull his arms back. Aya sat up on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his hair.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I have in a long time."

"I figured as much. You hardly moved at all."

Aya turned to him, studied the profile of his face framed by the pillow on one side and a fan of hair on the other.

"Thank you, Yohji."

Yohji smiled, soft and content. He looked happy.

"You're welcome, Aya."

"I didn't disturb you?"

Yohji reached out and brushed his fingers through the ends of Aya's hair.

"I would have you in my bed every night, Aya, if you wanted it. You don't even have to ask."

Aya studied him, the disbelief clear in his expression.

"You mean that, don't you?"

Reaching past Aya, Yohji pulled the drawer of the bedside table, fishing around for a second and coming up with a key, which he extended to Aya. Aya stared at it as if he weren't sure what it was, realization dawning that Yohji wasn't put out at all about Aya coming to him for comfort. Yohji was inviting him in, offering it freely, and, unlike the night before, standing out in front of Yohji's door, unsure how he would be received, Aya could now see the hope in Yohji's eyes.

* * *

Omi glanced at Aya; it was something he had been doing on and off for a couple of hours, trying not to be obvious, knowing he was failing. He kept waiting for Aya to say something, and when he didn't, Omi would glance at him again, trying to figure out what was different.

Aya was always quiet, but today he was quiet in a different way, lacking some of the tension that always seemed to be there. He wasn't smiling at the customers, but he wasn't as irate with them as he often was.

And he looked…rested. Yes, that was it. His eyes were brighter, his face wasn't as drawn, and his step a bit more energetic, though with Aya it was sometimes hard to tell. Aya hid his weaknesses very well.

Omi knew Aya had to be aware of his curiosity, but he chose not to ask him why the change of mood. If things were going well for Aya, he was not going to be the one to jinx it by asking about it.

He thought he might finally get some answers when Ken and Yohji joined them for the afternoon shift, but there was nothing forthcoming. Ken was so busy rearranging cactus' that Omi couldn't tell if he even noticed a change, and while Yohji occasionally glanced at Aya, it didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary.

"Youch!" Ken withdrew suddenly from his task, clutching one hand in the other. "It _bit_ me!" He withdrew to the kitchen to get the spine out and clean the cactus bite, and Omi followed, finding Ken standing over the sink, running cold water over his hand.

Omi came to stand beside him, drawing his hand from the water to check the wound. Ken had removed the spine, and Omi inspected carefully to make sure there was no small piece left that would irritate.

"Have you noticed?" Ken asked.

Omi glanced up at him, eyes wide.

"You mean Aya?"

Ken nodded.

"Yeah, but I'm not asking."

"You think everything is all right?"

"They both look happy. So, for now, yes." He really didn't want to think about what would happen if it suddenly went south.

Ken nodded, though his brow was still drawn down in concern. Omi put a finger on that spot in the center of Ken's forehead and wriggled it around, trying to smooth away the negative thoughts. That got him a small smile from Ken, and Omi brought his hand up to kiss the red bite mark. Ken's smile slipped as his eyes focused on Omi's mouth on his skin, his thoughts turning quickly away from their previous conversation as he rescued his injured hand from Omi to cradle the man's face and draw him into a much more satisfying kiss.

* * *

Aya was most definitely aware of Omi watching him, but for once, the young man's curiosity didn't irritate him so much as amuse him. He felt sharper today, more focused, than he had in a long time, and he owed that, he was sure to Yohji.

The man was standing outside on the sidewalk holding up a flower for a young woman to smell. Aya saw the smile on his face, the charm in his easy attitude, and knew that Yohji was laying it on thick. The jealousy spiked, regardless of his conversation with Yohji the previous day, but then Yohji directed the woman's attention to another plant. As she turned away from him, Yohji turned as well, bringing that charming smile full bore on Aya, and across the space, through the glass, Aya felt it lance through him, recognizing a heat that was absent when Yohji looked at women. Had that always been there? How had he missed it? How had he mistaken it for anything else? It was evident in that expression that, although Yohji was taking his time with Aya, he wanted much more under the surface, and his actions were proving that he was not being frivolous, that whatever this had started as, an attraction, a distraction, Yohji was serious.

Yohji had turned back to his customer in the few seconds that Aya was thinking, and Aya took the reprieve to step back into the house to get something to drink. He had forgotten about Ken and Omi, and walking into the kitchen to find Ken pressing Omi up against the counter in quite an elicit embrace stopped him in his tracks. He should have said something, should have at least cleared his throat, but his reaction kept him mute.

He was turned on.

Not by Omi. Not by Ken. But by the action itself, Omi's smaller body trapped, his arms tightly wound around Ken's neck, holding him in a kiss that was intense and hungry, Ken grinding his hips into him, their breathing heavy.

Aya felt the flush fill his body, heat up his face, weigh heavy in his groin. He felt like a teenager, for heaven's sake. He was embarrassed and excited, and he _wanted_ this for himself, damn it. He wanted to be the one trapped against that counter; he wanted Yohji rocking his body against him, uncaring of who might walk in on them. And he was sure Yohji wouldn't care.

But Aya did. Aya wasn't there yet, he knew. Aya could barely handle Yohji brushing innocently against him in the shop; it left him breathless with the combination of yearning for physical release and the fear of the unknown intimacy they were now striving for.

A gentle cough caught his attention, and he stared across the room, once again seeing Ken and Omi. Omi was now sitting up on the counter, his legs wrapped around Ken's waist. He still had one arm wrapped around Ken's neck, and Ken had one around him while the other rested high on his thigh.

Damn. Now he was the one distracted.

They stared back at him for a moment, both in a strange, silent shock, and then, at Omi's prompting, they started to disentangle themselves.

"Sorry Aya," Omi muttered, his face turning bright pink. Ken was already edging towards the door and, by the time Aya found his voice, had slipped quickly by without a word, his face nearly as flushed as Omi's.

Aya had turned his head as if tracking Ken's retreat, but his question was aimed at Omi.

"Doesn't it scare you? Being together? Never knowing what will happen to you or him?"

He had heard Omi jump nimbly to the floor. He was walking towards him, smoothing out his clothes, and he stopped short.

"Aya…" He stumbled over his thought and then pulled it together. "Of course it does, but bad is going to happen whether we're together or not." Aya was clearly uncomfortable, refusing to meet his eyes. Omi shimmied past him, afraid to push any further. "It won't happen again, Aya. We'll try to keep it low-key."

Omi was gone, and Aya was left staring blankly into an empty room. That wasn't what he had wanted. Seeing the two of them together had been uncomfortable, had embarrassed him, but not because of what he had seen. Rather, it was his reaction to it, which left him unsettled. But he didn't expect them to be invisible because he was having issues.

When he returned to the shop, Omi and Ken were successfully avoiding contact with anything but plants, including each other, and Yohji had a very confused expression on his face as he observed his youngest team members.

* * *

Yohji waited for a quiet lull to take his break, and what a relief it was. Something had happened this morning, involving Aya, Ken, and Omi, and the tension it had created in the shop had worn away at him like brillo. He didn't bother with going upstairs or outside. He crashed on the couch, face down, burying his head under a pillow. A few seconds later he heard movement next to him and something bumped the couch. Pulling the pillow away and looking up, he found Aya standing over him.

"You okay?"

Yohji quelled the laughter that threatened. So far, he and Aya were building a relationship on making sure the other wasn't coming undone at the seams.

"Yeah, fine." He swung around to sit up, patting the couch beside him for Aya to sit. "It's just too much, sometimes. Things were weird in the shop this morning." He watched as Aya dropped to his knees in front of him instead of taking the offered seat.

"I walked in on Omi and Ken."

"Yeah? So?"

Aya met his gaze, and understanding swept through Yohji.

"Oh." What else could he say? He didn't dare ask how Aya had managed that, but, as if reading his mind, Aya answered him.

"In the kitchen."

"In the…you're kidding me!" Since he had found out about the relationship between them, he had noticed little things that had been there, but now made more sense. As far as he could figure, though, they were being a bit more discreet than that.

No, Aya wasn't kidding. He could see it in his expression.

"I'm sorry, Aya. I know that…"

"I want what they have, Yohji."

Silence filled the room, and Aya placed his hands on Yohji's knees. Yohji remained very still.

Aya's hands slid along the rough fabric of his jeans, curled briefly around his hips and skimmed across the bare skin of his midriff. Yohji thought he might melt on the spot, and then Aya leaned in between his spread knees, wrapping his arms solidly around Yohji's body and drawing him close, their bodies lined up, and turned his face into the bend of Yohji's neck as he held him.

It was the first intimate gesture Aya had offered, and Yohji clung to him, knowing that, somehow, a barrier had been broken.


	24. Approaching an Understanding

_About 3/4 of the way through this chapter I hit a block and started to have my doubts as to whether I was achieving what I had set out to. I believe it was a question of consistency. He read with that specifically in mind, and answered all the questions I had concerning the consistency, emotions (was I getting across the point I was trying to?), and flow. However, if anything glares out at you, let me know. _

_For reading and reviewing, thank you much. _

_Enjoy. _

_fire mystic_

Approaching an Understanding

Breaking away from Aya was the last thing Yohji wanted to do, but a flash of movement in the doorway brought Yohji quickly back to reality. He was careful not to draw Aya's attention as he glanced over his shoulder to find Omi gesturing softly and backing slowly away and out of sight. What surprised Yohji most was that, while Aya seemed completely unaware of Omi's presence, he reacted to the tension change in Yohji's body, pulling away.

"I'm not…I mean, this is…"

He wasn't looking at Yohji; the last thing Yohji wanted was for him to crawl back into the shell he was so delicately breaking out of. He raised a hand, cradling Aya's face, drawing him back, nuzzling against the side of his face briefly and placing a single kiss high on his cheek, near his ear.

"Perfect, Aya. But we need to get back to work before someone comes looking for us." If Aya didn't know Omi had already tried, he was _so_ not mentioning it.

He stood, extending a hand for Aya, and was thrilled when Aya took it, and even more pleased when Aya let him keep hold of it till they were nearly to the shop, where Yohji gave it one firm squeeze before letting go.

Now, a half hour later, everyone trying to act like everything was perfectly normal, things were anything but.

It was odd, Yohji thought. Omi and Ken hadn't been overt about their relationship, but now it was painful to watch as the two went out of their way to avoid each other entirely. Equally painful, as well as amusing, was Aya, who blushed deeply every time he had to interact with Omi or Ken, but would then glance at Yohji, his expression a combination of desire mixed with uncertainty for a most endearing effect. As the afternoon crowd thinned out and they were getting ready to close the shop, Yohji made a point of acknowledging those furtive glances, a smile here, a wink there when he could get away with it, wanting to make sure Aya knew his attention didn't go unnoticed or that it was unappreciated.

As Omi went to retrieve the last of the plants from outside as they closed, Yohji followed him out.

"Thanks, Omi." He didn't explain what before he was talking about. Omi wasn't stupid, as was evident in his actions in avoiding Aya's detection.

Omi turned to face him, eyes wide and dark with concern.

"This is really hard for him, isn't it?"

Yohji took time to light a cigarette, nodding.

"Yeah. Look, he told me about this morning, Omi…"

Omi's cheeks flushed red.

"Yeah, sorry about…"

"No. Don't be. And don't start acting all weird because you think it will freak Aya out."

Omi's skepticism was apparent.

"I don't know, Yohji. You should have seen his reaction, heard what he said."

Yohji shook his head, crushing out the cigarette on the ground and pitching it into the garbage can.

"This isn't about you and Ken, Omi. It's about him. You saw him with me; trust me, he doesn't understand it yet, but he's not offended or upset about what he walked in on. He's upset that he isn't comfortable with it for himself. But he's trying. Give him time."

Omi stopped short, lowering the leafy potted plant he was moving so he could see Yohji clearly. It was in rare moments like these, when Yohji chose to share his observations and insights, which reminded Omi that despite Yohji's apparent uncaring demeanor at times, he had a gift for understanding matters of the heart. It embarrassed him that these moments surprised him every time.

"You don't think it would be better for us to keep things low-key?"

"Did he tell you to?"

"Well, no, but the expression on his face…"

"If he didn't say it, then don't assume it." He raised his eyebrow, grinning. "Of course, I'm not sure I'd recommend having sex on the kitchen counter in the next few days, either."

Cheeks turning bright cherry red, Omi shoved the plant he was carrying into Yohji's arms.

"We were NOT having sex!" Flustered, he nearly tripped on his way back into the shop, leaving Yohji to finish with securing the rest of the plants.

* * *

Omi had barely cleared the door when Ken pushed him up against the unforgiving wood with a violent thump, claiming his lips in a brutal kiss, eliciting a surprised squeak from the smaller man. Clutching him, dragging clothes from his body, Ken wheeled them around, maneuvering them to the bed, and unceremoniously falling with him in a heap of tangled limbs.

Omi giggled breathlessly, pulling at Ken's T-shirt.

"A little eager, eh, Ken?"

Ken attacked his neck with lips and tongue, murmuring against Omi's skin.

"I haven't been able to touch you all day. I was afraid to even look at you." He pulled back enough to make eye contact. "It wasn't exactly comfortable. Aya was really weirded out, huh?"

Pushing Ken's bangs from his eyes only to have them flop back down, Omi tried for the best explanation he could.

"Yeah, but I don't think it's about us. At least that's what Yohji says, and I agree with him. He says we shouldn't worry about it too much."

"So I don't need to avoid you outside of our rooms?"

"You better not!" Wrapping a hand behind Ken's neck, he pulled him closer until he could whisper against his lips. "But maybe we should be considerate and not lay it on too thick when Aya's around."

Ken's laughter was throaty as his eyes lit up, and pushing himself to stand, he tangled his fingers in the loose fabric around Omi's hips, yanking the loose shorts down without bothering to unbutton or unzip them and pulling the sneakers from his feet. Squealing at the sudden attack, Omi squirmed back further on the bed, watching as Ken pulled his own shirt over his head, flinging it to the floor, and then hastily unfastened his jeans, pushing them from his hips.

"I guess I can do that," Ken agreed as he leaned over Omi, bracing his weight on his arms as he let their erections slide together, "as long as I can lay it on thick in here."

After that, all thoughts of Aya and his discomfort were gone, any coherent thought and conversation lost to action and sounds far more intimate and gratifying.

* * *

Yohji dangled his keys in his hands as he approached his door. His mind whirred with the events of the day, but two thoughts popped to the surface repeatedly. The first was that he needed a shower. That was a given. It didn't matter if he was arranging flowers, making deliveries, or shamelessly flirting; he never failed to leave that shop without feeling the need to shower.

The other thought was about Aya, or more specifically if Aya would take advantage of the key he had given him. He didn't want to push, but perhaps after his shower, he would see if Aya wanted some company.

Reaching the door, he inserted the key and turned. Only to find the door was already unlocked. Had he left it that way? Forgotten to lock it? It wasn't a big deal. He didn't even know why he bothered. Not that anyone wouldn't try to break in, but Yohji felt kind of sorry for the poor soul who broke in to find they had entered a building inhabited by assassins. Yeah, that image certainly brought a chuckle.

Opening the door cautiously, he scanned the room and found his answer. No, he hadn't forgotten to lock his door, and yes, Aya had made use of that key, now gazing out the window from where he sat on the bed.

"You like doing that, don't you?" Yohji observed.

Aya shrugged, turning to watch Yohji remove his sunglasses, placing them on the dresser, and pull his shoes off, setting them just inside the closet door, before coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

"It's a different view than I'm used to."

"I was wondering if you would show up," and before Aya could ask him if that was alright, Yohji added, "I'm glad you did."

"I knocked first. I thought you would be here."

"Yeah, that. Omi left me to clean up outside the shop by myself. You don't need to worry about it; you don't need to knock, and I don't need to be here."

"Why didn't Omi help?"

Aya leaned back, reaching for a pillow, and Yohji had to conceal his pleasant surprise that Aya seemed so comfortable. Whatever conclusions Aya was coming to, Yohji was so far completely agreeable. Aya stretched out, pulling the pillow to rest his head on, the motion pulling his shirt up to expose a smooth, lean expanse of skin, one arm curled up and around the pillow for further support. It wasn't so much a suggestive position, but it was open and vulnerable, and Yohji wondered if Aya was aware of the effect it had, how sensual it appeared. After all, Aya might not be a virgin, and in fact could be very aggressive, but Yohji wasn't sure if Aya was aware of the subtler nuances of seduction.

There was one way to find out. And even if he wanted to resist, Yohji's hand was already in motion, reaching out of its own volition to settle tentatively against silken flesh that contracted and quivered under his touch.

Yohji drew his gaze from where his hand rested to Aya's face, and there was no doubt. Aya had no clue. He was holding his breath, watching Yohji's hand carefully.

Flexing his fingers over that sensitive skin, Yohji gripped the lithe muscles briefly, gently, drawing a sharp inhalation on Aya's part.

"I think I embarrassed him." He left his hand as it was, but kept it still, willing it to be a comfortable rather than erotic. "You know, he's worried about this morning. Ken probably is, too. They were acting strange all afternoon."

Aya turned away, looking out the window again.

"I didn't mean for that to happen. It was just so…unexpected. And it…I was surprised by my own reaction."

"Freaked you out, huh? Yeah, that image is kinda…"

"It excited me."

Oh, _no_. Yohji had _not_ heard that right. He stared at Aya long enough for the man to turn and meet his gaze, and was further shocked when Aya took his wrist and guided it lower, giving Yohji first-hand evidence of his reaction.

Would laughing be appropriate? Somehow, Yohji didn't think so, but damn this was kind of funny.

Or maybe not.

"Aya…you're not…attracted…"

Aya pushed his hand away, a face of utter disgust on his face, but Yohji was pretty sure it was playful.

"No! Not them." He pressed his hand to his belly where Yohji's had rested a few moments before. "It was just so…heated. So intimate. And comfortable. Like it was…natural. Like it was okay to feel that way." His hand dropped away to rest at his side, gaze once again drifting. "I…want that."

It was the second time he claimed what he wanted, both times filled with a soul-deep, bittersweet longing that created a raw ache within Yohji's chest, but this time there was more to it, a different sort of pain that extended beyond Aya's struggle to come to terms with letting someone in and letting himself feel, an admission of how uncomfortable this really was for him. But there was also a hint in there that some part of Aya wanted this to work, and not just behind closed doors, floundering in the guilt of enjoying an undeserved pleasure, and the hope in that hint created an ache of a different sort within Yohji.

He picked up that hand, holding it in his as if he were going to shake it, and gave it a squeeze, just sharp enough to draw Aya from his contemplation.

"You know, Ken and Omi aren't idiots, Aya."

"I never said that."

"That's not what I mean. Ken and Omi know there's something between us, and that it isn't just playing chess on a Saturday afternoon. My point is they'll understand."

Aya studied Yohji's eyes, fiercely concentrating as if he were looking for some hidden meaning, some trap about to be sprung.

"Only when you're ready, Aya," Yohji added. He didn't want Aya to think he expected them to be making out all over the house come morning. Not that the thought of having Aya pinned to any available surface in the house wasn't appealing.

Aya took a second more in his scrutiny before nodding his agreement, his face relaxing into an easier expression.

"Hey, I need to take a shower." Yohji declared, releasing Aya's hand with a final caress of fingers to his palm. Standing, he pulled his shirt off as he walked towards the hamper and dropped it in. "You want to grab something to eat after? Go out; take in? Your choice."

"We could do that."

Damn, Yohji thought. An actual date.

"Be here when I get back?" His hand was on the door knob. Aya hadn't moved from where he was, lounging on the bed, watching Yohji in his circuit around the room.

"I think so."

Yohji's smile was warm and satisfied, well worth Aya's agreement, as he turned to leave.

"Kudoh?" Yohji turned back. Aya usually reserved use of his last name for when he was pissed, but it lacked that quality. No, it sounded almost…affectionate.

"Yeah?"

"Do you really play chess?"


	25. Stepping Out

_I realized as I was working on this chapter how close I am to the end. I'm already dreading it. As necessary as it is (and it is CLEAR in my head, FINALLY!), I hate ending things, and this has been a pleasure to write, though unexpected. That said, I think I'm looking at between three and five more chapters depending on how things shape up as I'm writing. ( I could have done it in two really long chapters, including this one, but that didn't work for me, and updating would have taken forever!) For those of you that wait patiently for updates, you'll be happy to know that the next chapter is already quite far along, so the next update shouldn't be so far away._

_The end of this chapter, by the way, I was forced to add. (You'll know what I mean when you get there) Ken twisted my arm, and Omi pointed out that not only would it lighten things up, but they were too cute to ignore. I think the boys were just messing with me._

_Thank you for reading and for all the wonderful reviews and encouragment!_

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Stepping Out

As the door closed, Aya rolled back to the window, a warm feeling settling in his chest. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? To allow someone to care for him? About him? He wasn't sure, but at the moment the pleasure of it was far outweighing any guilt that went hand in hand with it.

Yohji had left the dinner choice up to him, and honestly he would have rather stayed in, but in this he felt an entirely different type of guilt. Yohji had been catering to him, keeping his promise to keep things low-key in public, and going out of his way to make sure Aya was comfortable. But Aya wasn't entirely sure Yohji was comfortable himself. He was outgoing, liked to be around people, liked to know what was going on in that world out there that they were separate from as Weiss, and he had given all that up for Aya. Going out to dinner seemed a simple way of giving some of that back to him, as well as appeasing his more social side. And he trusted Yohji, knew that he would handle the situation and Aya's self-consciousness with care.

As Aya had predicted, Yohji was thrilled with his choice to go out, though he had done a hell of a job containing it, and asked three times while he was dressing if Aya was sure he didn't want to simply stay in. It became more difficult to assure him each time. He was caught somewhere between letting Yohji change his mind and being totally distracted by Yohji leisurely selecting and putting on his clothes. In the end, however, Aya insisted they go. Yohji chose a pair of dark brown jeans and an equally dark green sweater that was tight, showing off his lean body, but conservative enough to completely cover his stomach. He was dressed, intentionally Aya was sure, as casually as Aya was, and yet it seemed so much more stylish on Yohji that Aya was unable to stop staring at Yohji as they walked to the restaurant. Finally, Yohji turned, hands in his pockets, easy going but concerned, walking backwards in front of Aya so he could look at Aya as he spoke.

"What's wrong?" He knew there was something, but couldn't put his finger on it and the panicked expression on Aya's face as he came to a dead stop confirmed it. Spooking Aya? Bad idea. "It's okay if you've changed your mind. It's not too late to go back."

And that, Aya was learning, was one of the things that was so incredible about Yohji. He would have done it, turned around and gone home at a word from Aya, with a smile and without any questions or recriminations. Aya was profoundly grateful that going home hadn't even been remotely what he was thinking.

"No." He shook his head, glancing around, licking his lips nervously. "That's not it."

Yohji stopped, concerned.

"Tell me?" He made it a simple, gentle request. If there was something bothering Aya, if there was something Aya needed to tell him, he wanted to make sure Aya knew it was okay to say it.

Aya shifted uneasily, glancing around on the street. There were no people nearby, and he took a chance, blushing furiously, speaking softly.

"It's just...you look good."

Yohji tilted his head, his lips curling slowly into a tender, pleased smile. A compliment like that was the last thing he had expected to come from Aya. He knew Aya was attracted to him, but had thought it might be a more primal, elusive attraction. This was the first indication that it was also a physical attraction, that Aya noticed his appearance in such a way, and as superficial as it might be, the compliment seeped in, warm and tingling, and wrapped itself around Yohji's heart.

He took one step closer, keeping his hands in his pockets, careful of appearances, lowering his voice.

"Thank you, Aya. As do you." He wanted to touch Aya, show him how those words had made him feel. A hug, a kiss, even something as simple as touching his face, cupping his chin. An explanation, a description simply wouldn't do it justice.

He had to concentrate to restrain himself.

Aya didn't think his face could flush hotter, but it did. Yohji seemed so happy. And sounded so sincere. Aya let his hair shield his reaction from anyone who might observe it as he circled around Yohji to continue walking, muttering a quiet thank you that accompanied his own small, shy smile. Yohji hesitated only long enough to soak in those timidly spoken words and rare smile before turning to catch up.

Yohji did keep his promise, treating the entire evening as if they were simply friends eating out together, although they both knew it was something more. He chose a restaurant that allowed them a moderate amount of privacy, and kept the conversation light and easy, no pressure. Amazingly, it was easy to find things to talk about, even for Aya, who was finding out that there were many things he knew about Yohji but hadn't realized he knew, while there were many things he thought he knew that he had no idea about, from the superficial to the personal. He had thought Yohji selfish, but Yohji's patience and consideration belied that at every turn. He had known from his observations of Yohji with the girls in the shop that he was probably a good date, but he didn't know what that really meant, how focused Yohji could be, how intent. He had thought Yohji couldn't control his flirting with others, but damn if he gave the waitress even a half a glance, and that was only when necessary. Despite the friendly nature they were projecting, Yohji's attention was for Aya alone. And when they were done, Yohji claimed the check before it even hit the table, extending a hand as the waitress approached and taking it directly from her.

As it turned out, with the exception of any touching or blatant signs of emotion, it was a date in every sense of the word. Yohji even managed, without any apparent effort, to somehow open every door for Aya.

When all was said and done, it seemed like only moments had passed, and they were standing in the hallway between their rooms again, Aya uncertain of what to do next.

"Is this where we kiss and say good night?" He couldn't help asking. This was a situation in which he was totally without experience.

From anyone else, Yohji would have sworn the question was meant in humor. But from Aya? No, he was perfectly serious. He really was lost on the relationship thing.

"That depends." Yohji tilted his head, leaning with one shoulder against the wall.

"On what?"

"Whether you want me to kiss you, and if you want to say good night." He added a tiny drop of seduction to his voice while keeping his hopefulness to a minimum. Damn, he wanted Aya to stay, and he didn't have words for how much he wanted that kiss. In answer to Aya's perplexed expression, he elaborated on his understated offer.

"And one doesn't necessarily have to lead to the other."

Aya searched his eyes, his face for a long moment before giving that simple nod of his. As if that were a definitive answer. Yohji waited to see if more would come, but Aya was evidently stuck in his state of uncertainty. Whether it was from a lack of direction and experience, from not being able to decide what he wanted, not being sure how to ask for what he wanted, or a combination of sorts, Yohji couldn't be sure. What he was sure of, however, was what he wanted. He wanted Aya to stay, to come in, to spend more time with him, to be as comfortable in Yohji's room as he had been earlier that evening. And he wanted that kiss. Oh, how he wanted that kiss.

But more than that, he wanted Aya to want it. Coming to Yohji as he had, sleeping next to him, even returning to his room and waiting for him were one thing. Actually spending time with Yohji was an entirely different matter.

First step; make Aya feel welcome without being pushy.

He unlocked his door, remaining as he was as the door swung open, the invitation as clear as he could make it without speaking it aloud.

And there was that nod again, as Aya stared into the dim room without moving, held captive in his indecision. Yohji waited, leaning his head against the wall with a gentle, patient smile, crossing one ankle casually over the other, his heel rolling in a silent, easy rhythm.

"So if I don't want to say goodnight?" Aya asked.

"We don't have to."

"And what about that kiss?"

Yohji's foot stilled as his focus sharpened. Had Aya made a decision? Was that an invitation?

He and Aya had never engaged in such intimacy. He couldn't count the few kisses he had placed on Aya's cheek, on the back of his neck. He couldn't count that first insane, furious kiss that had caught Aya completely off guard. Hell, it had caught him off guard, and he was surprised he walked away from it without major damage. He couldn't count the times they had sex; it had been heated and primal, but not intimate.

No, this was something different, and Yohji wondered if Aya knew what he was asking for. Pushing himself away from the wall, Yohji approached slowly, noting that Aya still wasn't looking at him. Was that a good sign? Or bad? When he reached a hand to caress along the sharp definition of Aya's cheek, Aya leaned into the cradle of his palm, his eyes slipping closed. Okay. Good sign. He turned Aya's face, giving Aya time to feel the length of his body as he stepped closer, giving him time to feel their close proximity, giving him time to panic. He waited for Aya's eyes to open again; he wanted Aya to see him, to fully understand this, to own it. Aya focused on Yohji's mouth, his own lips opening as if he were going to speak, but no words came, and then Aya surprised him when he met his gaze. The determination was clear, as was the fear, the anxiety, the panic Yohji had been searching for, but he kept his face upturned as Yohji closed the distance between them until there was barely a space between them. He hesitated there, feeling the warmth of Aya's lips, and then closed that scant distance in a very controlled and gentle lingering press of lips.

Aya waited for the protest to rise within him, waiting for his reflexes to kick in and draw him away from the contact.

It never came.

In fact, it felt right. As if he had been waiting forever for this moment, for this heat, for this electricity that tingled along the sensitive flesh of his lips, and drew from him the breath that he had been holding in a warm rush.

Yohji felt the breath against his cheek as Aya exhaled, felt Aya's body relax minutely, thrilled that Aya hadn't pulled away, wasn't running, that they remained touching even as the first kiss ended and the second began, then the third, their mouths slowly softening, their lips working against each other, drawing from each other, slowly parting, tongues meeting tentatively, until they both sank into the kiss, each tasting deeply of the other.

Yohji didn't want this to end, didn't want to let go of the moment, but he was dimly aware of Aya's hands clutching at the front of his shirt with what he was afraid might be a bit of desperation. He gentled the kiss, pulling away slowly, resting his forehead against Aya's as they fought to catch their breath, and then finally stepped back, turned, and walked into his room, flicking on a dim light on his way, leaving the door open behind him.

Aya fought to think past the fire still rushing through him, threatening to consume him, fought to weigh his options, fought to balance his fears with the emotions he was now beginning to understand and permitting himself the luxury of. In the end, it was simple. His room, cold, empty, and lonely with a high probability of nightmares keeping him awake and miserable. Or door number two, Yohji's room. He could already feel the warmth emanating into the hallway, was reminded how comfortable he had been there, how well he had slept wrapped in Yohji's arms, how cared for he felt.

He didn't want to be lonely anymore.

Not four heartbeats later, he followed Yohji through the door, closing it behind him.

Down the hallway, from the darkness of the stairwell, there was a soft sigh of relief.

"Do you think they heard us?" Ken asked quietly, still carefully watching Yohji's door from his crouched position.

"I don't think they were aware of anything but each other."

"And Aya thinks _we _were hot this morning? I guess Yohji was right, Aya's working on it."

"Good thing he took your advice, eh, Ken?" Omi slid his hand under the loose hem of Ken's t-shirt, teasing at the warm flesh that quivered at his touch, drawing Ken's attention back to its previous focus.

"You're room or mine?" He couldn't clearly make out Ken's features in the dark to see his reaction, but he didn't need to as Ken rolled him, pinning him on the stairs.

"I don't know, Omi. What's wrong with right here?"

Indeed.


	26. Gaining Appreciation

_This was a very strange chapter for me. Originally, I had an entirely different chapter nearly finished and ready to go up, but this one sort of butted its way into my brain and wouldn't let go, and it either went here or not at all. It was so insistent that I couldn't ignore it. So I thought perhaps I could make this the beginning of the chapter I already had written, since they kinda play off of each other (sorta, kinda), which would have made this twice as long, but that didn't really work either. It simply wouldn't transition smoothly for me. _

_As if that is not enough, the formatting in this chapter is a bit different, and I didn't realize until rageofloki proofed it for me that it might need some explanation. This is meant to be glimpses into Aya's perspective of things as they progress, his broader perception followed by more detailed examples of where those perceptions are coming from. They are not meant to be in any specific order, though some refer to other points in the story, and they are not meant to detail every experience Aya and Yohji have together. I hope it's not too confusing. It somehow felt right to get something of Aya's perspective here and this seemed a natural way to do it._

_I also hope the transition between regular print and italics isn't too annoying. If it is, please let me know and I will try to find another way to format it._

_For reading and commenting, thank you._

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

Gaining Appreciation

Yohji pleasantly surprised Aya at every turn.

_"You really do know how to play chess."_

_Yohji, lounging on the bed, head resting on a bent arm while he waited for Aya to study the board, winked at him, smiling lazily. Chess was not what Aya had expected when he entered Yohji's room after their first dinner out, but Yohji's suggestion of a game perfectly balanced Aya's bold actions of the night with something he enjoyed and would put him at ease._

_Not only could Yohji play chess, but he was proving to be a worthy opponent as well, providing further proof to Aya that Yohji was a comfortable, considerate companion. After all, Yohji wasn't intentionally trying to distract Aya. It wasn't Yohji's fault if Aya couldn't concentrate past the long line of Yohji's legs, or the slight narrowing of his slim waist, highlighted by the way he was lying, or the breadth of his shoulders, or the kiss they had shared out in the hall earlier that night._

Yohji let Aya have his space, never excessively demanding of his time, but always accepting of Aya's presence. In fact, Aya noticed, Yohji often waited for Aya to initiate contact.

_"Are you busy?"_

_Yohji glanced back from where he was sitting on the roof, smoking as he stared out at a bank of clouds moving in over the city._

_"Nope." He put the cigarette out on the bottom of his boot, spread out the old tarp he was sitting on to make room, and patted the space next to him in invitation. Aya accepted, sitting beside him and stretching his legs out in front of him._

_"Bad day?"_

_"I'm tired of girls squealing and fawning. If one more girl touches me, they're going to have to lock me away somewhere."_

_Yohji was nodding, chuckling under his breath._

_"I thought that's what my room was for."_

_Aya slid a bit closer, letting the length of his leg rest against Yohji's, an innocent enough contact that was anything but._

On the rare occasions that Yohji knocked on Aya's door, he was perfectly content to sit quietly with Aya, who was inordinately pleased when he found that Yohji could balance his more talkative nature with a very quiet, content side.

_Aya opened the door, curious. His teammates very rarely disturbed him when he was in his room, but then things had been changing drastically in the past few weeks._

_Yohji stood with one hand braced against the door jamb. He looked tired, a bit hollow around the edges. They had been on two missions in the past week, both tiring, both bloody, and Yohji would have just finished his shift in the shop a little while ago._

_"Mind some company?"_

_It felt strange to be on this side of the door, and Aya couldn't figure why Yohji would want to spend time in his room, but he didn't hesitate in swinging the door wide and stepping back._

_Yohji surveyed the room as he entered, waving a hand at the book lying open on Aya's bed._

_"Were you reading?"_

_"I can read later," Aya offered as he closed the door. Yohji was shaking his head._

_"No, you keep reading. I just want to be near you."_

_It was as needy as Aya had heard Yohji lately, reminding him that although Yohji had worked through many of his issues, he was still strongly affected by what they did as Weiss._

_"You sure?"_

_Yohji slumped into Aya's chair sideways, curling one leg up and draping the other over the arm as he rested his head against the high side and closed his eyes._

_"Yeah, I'm sure." He sounded as tired as he looked, and Aya wondered if he'd even make five minutes before drifting off to sleep._

_Aya took Yohji at his word, returning to curl up with his book, and Yohji didn't seem to mind at all, remaining so quietly in the chair that Aya glanced up after a few minutes to see if Yohji had fallen asleep. No. He was staring out the window, his eyes glazed over in a haunted expression._

_"Yohji?"_

_Yohji managed a wan smile, turning his attention to Aya._

_"I'm fine, Aya. Just really tired."_

_Aya studied him, tilting his head, then shifted back on the bed, patting the blanket beside him. Yohji studied the spot for a couple of seconds, and finally pushed himself from the chair and took the offered space, curling into Aya's stomach, leaving his arms free for the book._

_Aya settled with his book as Yohji stilled, one arm wrapped gently over Aya's hip. He thought Yohji might shift around, or talk, but fifteen minutes later, Yohji was as silent as when he had laid down, and half an hour later, his body finally relaxed into sleep, his breath softly warming Aya's belly through the fabric of his shirt._

Even when Yohji was talkative, Aya found that in private, Yohji's voice was always low and intimate, soothing, no matter what the topic of conversation.

_"No."_

_"Oh, yes. You should have seen it, Aya. I thought for sure Omi was going to end up picking cactus needles out of Ken's ass for the rest of the afternoon."_

_There was more to the story, but Aya could barely concentrate past the lull of Yohji's voice, and the rolling chuckle that resonated through Yohji's chest was sheer delight._

_"Hey, have you heard from Manx about your sister lately?"_

_Aya's eyes slipped open, gaining a modicum of seriousness at the change of subject, though Yohji's voice lost none of its calming effect._

_"I talked to her yesterday when she dropped off the latest mission details. She said Aya is fine. Even had some pictures for me." He retrieved a folder from his dresser and brought it to the bed where Yohji was leaning against the headboard, long legs crossed before him, as they talked._

_Yohji opened the file and looked over the pictures with Aya._

_"These were taken by a P.I., weren't they?" He knew surveillance photos when he saw them._

_"That or one of Kritiker's agents. I don't care as long as I know she's safe."_

_Yohji looped an arm over Aya's shoulder and pulled him snug to his side._

_"She looks happy, too, Aya. Kritiker is doing right by her. By both of you. At least where she's concerned. As for you, you really okay going on this next mission alone?"_

_He didn't hear a thing, but he felt Aya sigh against him._

_"It only requires one person. The orders are to get out if things get strange. I'll be fine. You're not going to get weird about this kind of thing, are you?"_

_As he spoke, Yohji could feel that tension seeping back in, the tension that he worked so hard to keep Aya from slipping into._

_"Not weird, Aya. I just want to make sure you'll be okay without one of us there for back-up. It's not something I haven't thought before. I've just never asked."_

_Aya had turned his head so he was looking up at the profile of Yohji's face as he spoke. Yohji looked down as he finished speaking, stunned as always by the intensity of Aya's eyes close up. He wondered if Aya was aware of how beautiful and startling they were. And then there was Aya's mouth, sensual lips drawn in that serious frown they tended towards when Aya was thinking too hard. He brushed a kiss over those lips, which didn't respond. Yet._

_"What you thinking about, Aya?"_

_Aya wasn't going to admit that he was dwelling on Yohji's question about the mission. It was an honest, concerned question, and Yohji was taking him at his word. The least he could do was trust Yohji's explanation, and the gentle sincerity in Yohji's tone certainly didn't hurt his cause._

_But there was something else on Aya's mind he was willing to admit to. He nodded at the file still laid out across Yohji's lap._

_"I was just wondering how Kritiker always manages to make a set of pictures look like a mission profile."_

_And there was that laugh again, rich and contagious and so delicious._

Yohji liked to touch, needed it, almost as if it were as important as air for breathing, and Aya often woke to Yohji's hands stroking over his flesh in a gentle massage.

_Yohji's fingers were kneading softly into the taught muscles of his abs, and then his hand flattened to smooth up over the center of Aya's chest, slowly, deliberately, enough so that he knew Yohji was awake and not just merely flexing his fingers and hand. Just as slowly, the hand drew back down, skimming low on his belly, just avoiding intimate contact, and then circling around to ride along his hip bone and then gently grip the softer skin at his waist. Yohji shifted to make room as Aya rolled onto his back. Aya's eyes remained closed but he pushed the blankets to his waist as he stretched his body out in a welcoming gesture, and Yohji took advantage, searching out those pressure points that made Aya sigh into his touch. His back arched as Yohji brushed his fingers over a tight nipple, and Yohji slipped his other arm under Aya to roll him fully into his embrace, his hands now roaming over his back, his face nuzzling into the crook of his neck._

Waking up had never been such a pleasure, and having Yohji curled around him, touching him, was a habit Aya was quickly getting used to. Even while Yohji slept, he had a way of holding Aya that seemed conscious, keeping continuous contact of some kind, but always flexible when Aya needed to move. It was an addictive indulgence that Aya was finding he had no desire to deny, and it had gotten to the point where he spent more time in Yohji's room than his own and missed Yohji when he wasn't there.

More importantly, it had become something he secretly looked forward to. In the shop, during off hours, training, whatever he was doing, Aya now had a reason to come home. It frightened Aya, jangling his mental warning bells. Becoming comfortable was dangerous; it always led inevitably to loss, to pain. But despite his fears and self-consciousness, he was quickly coming to his own unavoidable conclusion regarding his relationship with Yohji: It was too late to turn back. Once the wheels had been set in motion, once Aya had that initial taste, once he realized what Yohji meant to him, and had been shocked to find out what Yohji felt for him, it had sealed the deal. Whatever might eventually become of them, what pain or loss may be involved, Aya was more willing to deal with what may come than to walk away now.


	27. A Reason to Come Home

_This chapter rated M for explicit erotic content._

_Thank you to Marasmine, who was kind enough to point out a couple of errors (grammatical, I think) a while back, which have now been edited. _

_Thanks much for all the supportive comments!_

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

A Reason to Come Home

Aya stopped at Yohji's door. Yes, he wanted to see him, had been thinking about it the entire way home. But then he opened the door and found the room empty. Should he stay and wait? The building was dark and quiet at this hour of night, and he hadn't seen any sign of Yohji on the way in. Where would he have gone? A club? A bar? He didn't think so, but it was possible. Yohji had been spending most of his time with Aya lately, and as much as Yohji didn't show any sign of it, Aya couldn't shake the feeling that the complexity of their relationship must be taking its toll on Yohji. Maybe he needed a break. It also occurred to Aya that as much progress as he was making, he still may be unknowingly pushing Yohji away. That idea hurt, cut him deeper than he ever imagined it would. Now that he had dropped his defenses enough to let Yohji in, now that he had allowed himself that small taste of feeling and realized he didn't want to let it go, he didn't want to subconsciously screw it up for himself.

Aya chose not to wait. He didn't want to smother Yohji. Flicking the light and closing the door behind him, Aya retreated to his own room.

He couldn't have been more surprised to find Yohji curled up in his bed. There was no agreement; Aya's room was by no means off limits, but they spent most of their time in Yohji's room. It was just the way things had worked out, and now it felt odd, but not unwelcome, to find the man waiting here for him. He inched his way closer, admiring the long, lean line of Yohji's body, wearing only a loose pair of jeans, muscles relaxed, clutching a pillow in the curve of his body, his face as buried as it could be while still allowing the deep, even breath of sleep.

Squeezing the pillow closer, perhaps aware of being watched, Yohji stretched out and turned sleepy eyes to peer at Aya over his shoulder.

"You're back." His tone was warm and pleasant, laced with just a bit of relief. "Everything go all right?"

Aya, accepting that Yohji would worry no matter what, answered his concern with a quick nod.

"I would have called if I needed back-up, but it was hardly worth our time or concern."

Aya was standing there now, looking down at him with an expression Yohji couldn't read, making him unsure of himself.

"It's okay that I'm here, isn't it?" Though his door was always open, the same arrangement hadn't been discussed concerning Aya's room.

Aya hoped Yohji was simply looking for confirmation, that there was nothing in his expression that had instigated the question.

"I'm glad you're here," Aya responded. "I stopped by your room on the way in. Thought you'd be there." He couldn't rationalize Yohji's choice of waiting here; Aya knew to what lengths Yohji went to insure his room was comfortable. Aya's room was sparse and cold by comparison.

"I missed you," Yohji explained. He held the pillow out a bit. "It smells like you."

Aya felt his heart kick hard at the comparison. It hadn't occurred to him that Yohji would find comfort in the same things he did.

Slipping out of his coat, Aya went to hang it up, aware of Yohji's eyes following him, lingering on him. He felt the heat in that gaze as if it were tangible, a flame reaching out to him. That was all it took, that keen, erotic interest, and Aya was hard, his skin tingling as his blood rushed to his cock. He was almost embarrassed as he pushed the pants from his hips; Yohji was taking his time, waiting for Aya to come to terms with accepting and showing affection, and Aya felt his physical response seemed so tacky. Rude. Inconsiderate of that patient well of understanding. If it bothered Yohji, however, he didn't say anything, and, thankfully, it didn't stop him from giving.

Aya climbed onto the bed nude and settled on his knees next to Yohji, who reached to brush the hair from Aya's eyes. Aya caught his hand in his own, shaking his head.

The hurt and pain that blossomed in Yohji was nearly unbearable. This was the first time in a long time Aya had refused his touch. What had happened? It had all been going so well.

Aya smiled, one of those rare, soft smiles that provided a glimpse into the man Yohji was coming to know lay beyond the implacable mask of an assassin. Bringing Yohji's hand to his mouth, he placed a tender kiss at the center of his palm, his lips lingering long enough for him to see Yohji's discomfort and confusion resolve into something more intimate. Patience and anticipation.

Laying the hand over Yohji's belly, Aya gripped his wrist, giving it a tight squeeze while rubbing his thumb over the tender flesh of his inner arm.

"Let me." His voice came out a raspy whisper, affected by the emotion coursing through him, his lust, his desire for passion, his insecurity, his need, clashing together, threatening to overwhelm him.

Yohji settled back, propping his head up on the pillow, perfectly willing to see where Aya was going with this.

Aya reached up with his other hand to grasp a strand of Yohji's hair, rolling it in his fingertips, and then threaded his fingers through the hair to caress along the skin beneath.

With a groan, Yohji leaned into that hand, nuzzling in a feline gesture to encourage further contact. He needn't have worried.

Aya touched him. From the curve of his ear and across his cheek, brushing a thumb over his lips and then down over his neck. Aya left nothing unexplored, using his hands only, testing the texture of Yohji's skin against the pads of his fingers and the flat of his palm. He pinched at hardening nipples, gently at first, then harder, testing Yohji's sensitivity, then traced his fingertips over the dip of Yohji's belly, swirling them around his bellybutton before unbuttoning and unzipping the jeans and gently urging them from Yohji's hips and down the length of his legs, casting them aside quickly before continuing his tactile foray.

Yohji didn't try to return the caresses. This exploration belonged solely to Aya. It was as unexpected as it was better than anything Yohji had imagined. It was everything his previous sexual encounters with Aya hadn't been and more. He didn't encourage Aya's hands to where his body wanted them most. He wanted Aya to know the simplest caresses were as important and appreciated as the most erotic ones. In return, Yohji gave Aya his pleasure, letting Aya see it in his eyes and in his obvious arousal, feel it in the slight shifting of his body into that touch, hear it in the deep groans and purrs he couldn't have held back if he wanted to.

The expression of wonder on Aya's face was well worth Yohji's restraint. Aya looked as if he were just discovering the pleasure of touching someone, as if he had never realized how much Yohji enjoyed this simple gesture. His hands lingered where the reactions were strongest, yet avoided the most intimate areas until Yohji was writhing, hands gripping the fabric of the sheets.

When he rolled the palm of his hand over the sacs at the base of Yohji's erection and then up the hard length, his fingers wrapping around in a firm grip, it was with the same wonder, torn between watching his fingers stroking along Yohji's skin and looking up to see Yohji's reaction.

Yohji gritted his teeth against coming at that first intimate stroke. This was so good, too good to let end so soon. But it wasn't easy. Aya had relaxed his grip, and now played over Yohji's erection with just the tips of his fingers, outlining the contours, tracing the sensitive veins, tickling the even more sensitive rim, and then rolling his open palm over the plush tip, collecting the resulting moisture, his hand becoming slick.

It became rhythmic, up to circle the tip, down and back again. Aya's other hand smoothing over the dip of Yohji's lower belly and the flesh of his thighs, tense as he strained against the building climax, squeezing gently and fondling the tightening sacs. And as Yohji became unable to do anything but push up into Aya's hand, his erection leaking more fluid with each stroke, his movements and breathing becoming erratic, Aya met Yohji's gaze and watched the tension build there, waited to see the evidence of the climax not in the act itself, but in the expression on Yohji's face.

Yohji held that gaze as long as he could before his head fell back, eyes slipping closed, and hips snapping up in an agonizingly forceful release that held him in a taut arc.

Dropping back to the bed spent, he opened his eyes languidly and reached for Aya.

"Now you," he offered, his voice husky and passion-laden.

Aya shook his head, resisting.

"This was for you, Yohji." Yohji was always so giving, so patient with him. He wanted to do this for Yohji, give back in this way, and now, finally, he understood the pleasure Yohji took from giving.

Yohji was relentless, pulling Aya to him until he could wrap an arm around his neck, holding him in a tight hug. Tracing a path down Aya's ribs to his hip, he rasped in Aya's ear.

"This is for me."

Yohji guided Aya's body above his with one hand on his hip while the other held him close. Aya braced himself on extended arms as his hips fell into a familiar, pulsing rhythm, rolling easily in the wet warmth of Yohji's release as he found friction against Yohji's belly. Bowing his head down to rest against Yohji's shoulder, Aya bit his lip around a groan of intense pleasure as his body increased its tempo of its own volition. Yohji was moving with him, his body rising and falling to meet him, the muscles in his stomach flexing just enough to taunt the orgasm that was burning within him, drawing out the anticipation until each stroke was nearly painful in its pleasure.

The hand that had kept him from bolting now slid into his hair, cupping and lifting his head so he was looking down into heavily lidded eyes that shone with arousal. He was aware of Yohji's lips as he spoke, his eyes focusing on the movement of his mouth as the raspy demand elicited the desired affect.

"Come for me, Aya."

Then Yohji's mouth was on his, catching the harsh gasp for air, the drawn out cry of release and relief, allowing Aya only enough time between kisses to gulp for air as he felt the fresh rush of warm liquid against his belly.

To Yohji's delight, there was no trace of panic in Aya, no sense that he might pull away. Aya pressed into the kiss eagerly, his tongue sliding and flicking against Yohji's as an arm wrapped around Yohji's shoulder to hold him closer.

To Aya's delight, Yohji seemed so content, so well pleased, as if there were nothing he would rather be doing at the moment. As if there was nothing more satisfying in the world than being with Aya in this way. As if there had never been any doubt on Yohji's part that Aya could bring him such pleasure.


	28. A Hard Rain

_This, is, ridiculous! I, have, comma-itis! It's horrible, I tell you! I don't even want to know how many I edited out, but hopefully I got them all. If I didn't, let me know where the interloper comma is and I'll exterminate it!_

_Thank you for your patience in waiting for this chapter. About half way through, I found I had to go back and read the entire fic from the beginning to make sure I wasn't jumping into the deep end of inconsistency. I think I managed not to do that, but in re-reading, I managed a good laugh when I found out that I've spelled Yohji's last name at least three different ways. *ashamed* I knew I was having a problem with it, but I didn't know it was that bad. I will eventually get around to fixing it when I have the time and patience to deal with the intricacies of navigating the site. Anyway, thanks for sticking with me, and great big thanks to everyone who taken the time to review and offer encouragement!_

_Enjoy._

_fire mystic_

A Hard Rain

It had been cold and damp when they left for the mission. By the time they had arrived at the building complex, a steady drizzle had set in and hadn't let up since. It was absolutely miserable and Yohji, soaked to the skin, hair dripping water, couldn't have cared less. He felt high, but in the best way possible. He was on hyper alert, his senses keen, aware of everything around him as if it were highlighted in stark relief to the darkness. He felt alive, connected to his body, his muscles agile and responsive, his reflexes impeccable. He could feel energy pulsing through him, wiring him, preparing him.

His earpiece buzzed and he could hear Omi talking to Ken, but a glitch of static cut what they were saying into isolated syllables which resulted in undistinguishable, nonsensical gibberish. Yohji tapped the thing, hoping it was just a momentary glitch, but then it went silent and he didn't know if it was because they weren't saying anything more or if they were and he simply couldn't hear them.

"This can't be good," he muttered under his breath. He wasn't in visible range of any of his team, and if their communications were cut off, they were screwed. Or dead.

From where he was hunched against the trunk of an old tree, he surveyed his surroundings. The trees and shrubs around him were lurking in the fine drizzle, but there was nothing among them that presented any threat. To his left, somewhere over the rise of a hill, was the van they had taken, packed full of surveillance equipment which, if his earpiece was any indication, was proving to be of no use. To his right were a few more trees scattered in a long row like sentinels, and behind him was the alley between the two closest buildings that Aya and Ken had disappeared into about fifteen minutes earlier.

Could something have gone wrong already?

Hugging the tree with his body, Yohji leaned around so he could see the alley and the road that led into the facility. No vehicles, no people, nothing. And surely, he thought, if Omi couldn't contact him, he would realize something was wrong. They had a contingency plan for times such as these, after all. It just involved a bit more fancy foot work.

Yohji returned to his original position, a small smile on his face as he tapped the earpiece again. Fancy foot work would be fine with him. He was confident he could go a round or two.

There was an ominous flash of light somewhere off to the west, and Yohji glanced reflexively in that direction just as it was followed by a low rumble of thunder. Great. Maybe that was why communications had cut out. If this was a foreshadowing of worse weather to come, they had better hurry up or get the hell out. As if to confirm the negative feeling that was settling into Yohji's chest, the drizzle finally gave in to a steadier rain.

Five more minutes, Yohji figured as he checked his watch. That's all he was giving it. If he didn't hear anything, he was going in.

The sky lit up again, clear as day this time, and the volley of thunder that followed it was practically sonic, leaving Yohji ducking for cover where there was none. As it faded, another crack of sound drew his attention. More thunder? Possibly, but this sounded more distinct, more localized. Like a gunshot.

Fuck.

Turning back to scan the buildings again, blurred now because of the rain. Yohji found nothing. But that didn't mean anything at this point. He was going in.

* * *

Aya was aware of Ken at his back, a blur within the darkness keeping silent pace with him. He was aware of everything, as sharp as he ever was, if not sharper, and he didn't need to look back to know every move Ken made. He didn't need to see it; he could feel it. He kept them to the darker hollows, keeping out of the artificial light, and wishing that the infernal drizzle would either finally give into rain or just give up all together.

From an open doorway a few feet ahead, he heard a slight sound, perhaps nothing to be alarmed about, but he couldn't tell. He froze where he was, sinking back a step, knowing that Ken would be following his lead. He waited, listening carefully. Another shuffle, more distinct this time, and then a man stepped out of the building, closing the door behind him, and walked away in the opposite direction, head down against the weather, completely oblivious to the fact that the weather would have been the last thing he needed to worry about if he had been unfortunate enough to simply turn his head a few degrees in their direction.

Aya glanced back at Ken, who was lurking against the side of the opposite building. Was he smiling? Aya shook his head. Ken found humor in some of the strangest things.

They continued on until they reached the corner of the building, the narrow alley opening onto a small square that had been elegantly landscaped with a little garden at the center. The square was clear, no sign of the man who had preceded them or anyone else, but Aya couldn't shake the feeling that something was not quite right. He hit the comm on his ear to check in with Omi, but all he got was a few chopped up words and a lot of static. Just what they needed on this mission. He sank back from the corner to join Ken.

"Can you reach Omi?" He asked, speaking directly into Ken's ear.

"Nothing much more than static," Ken responded similarly. "Something wrong?"

Aya shrugged, taking another look around and out into the square.

"No, but it doesn't feel right."

Ken didn't question it. He knew Aya better than that. If Aya felt like something was off, then it was off.

"You want to abort?"

Aya considered, but shook his head.

"Slow and steady for now. Keep your eyes open, be ready for anything."

They returned to their positions, and Aya took the first cautious step out into the square. They moved in tandem, scanning the area constantly. And then the lightning flickered, and Aya saw clearly the man sitting on the bench on the opposite side of the garden, casually draped with one leg pulled up in front of him, and his arm cast out over the back of the bench, watching the two of them with that sadistic fucking smile of his.

Behind him, Ken grunted suddenly, and Aya knew this was the beginning of their entire mission going to hell.

* * *

Omi wasn't bothering with any official weather report. The static in the lines and the lousy connection he had on his laptop was enough to tell him something more than a little rain was on its way. They didn't need the connection. Their mission was clear, and they all had independent orders. But what if things went wrong? Yes, that could be a problem.

There was a brief flash on the road, just past the tree line where the van was neatly hidden. At first Omi thought it might be lightening, but then he heard the sound of an engine. He checked out the small window. It wasn't one of the cars that had been flagged in their mission, and he was about to shrug it off when he caught sight of the passenger staring out the back window of the car, directly at the van.

Omi hit the comm without looking at it, calling first for Aya, then Ken, and finally Yohji. Nothing. Static. How annoying was that? The first sign that things could go seriously wrong, or at least get screwed up in a major way, and he had no way of warning anyone. No way except to insert himself further into the mission.

Securing the van, he exited and headed in the same direction Aya and Ken had taken earlier. Was it raining harder than it had been before? Omi couldn't be sure. Maybe it was his imagination playing with him, trying to add drama to the already bad situation. He scanned for Yohji as he moved through the area he knew Yohji to be, but with no success. There was no point in searching him out, Omi knew. Yohji would be invisible even if they were within a mere few feet of each other. Knowing it, however, didn't stop Omi from trying.

He entered the same alley Ken and Aya would have used, and made his way quickly. He knew he was being a bit too careless, but an ominous feeling was pushing at him like a fist in the center of his back, pumping the adrenaline harder than normal. Ahead of him, a flash of lightening highlighted the far end of the alley, and he immediately recognized Aya's figure illuminated clearly in the flare. The clouds unleashed a torrent of rain then, and he saw another flash, this time one of light on steel, but too far from Aya to be his sword. No, it was off to the left, just past the building corner and behind Ken, whose figure Omi would recognize in the darkest night. He opened his mouth to give a warning shout, but before the sound made it past his lips, an invisible force swept him from his feet to land heavily into the concrete wall.

* * *

Ken was quick, but not quite fast enough. The blade caught him as he turned, slashing across his arm. There was a moment of no pain at all, but the stinging that followed clued him in that the blade had hit home. Now facing the madman who had managed to sneak up behind him, they circled each other as Aya faced off with the other lunatic, and Ken felt, somehow, that he was getting the better end of the bargain.

"You really should have refused this mission, Fujimiya."

The voice wasn't the one he expected as he watched Schuldig rise from the bench and approach, but one equally disliked.

"What's your business here, Crawford?"

Aya took his chances and turned towards the voice, finding Crawford standing in a doorway not far behind him, his white suit impeccable as always.

"Security, of course. And yours?"

"Our business isn't with you Crawford. Walk away and this doesn't have to involve you at all."

"You know that's not going to happen."

Aya stiffened as Schuldig draped an arm over his shoulders and leaned against him as if they were best of friends.

"He knows," Schuldig responded for him as he squeezed slightly and turned his chin to rest intimately on Aya's shoulder. "Mmm. You smell good. Just like Kudoh." He glanced around warily. "Where is that lovely little blonde anyway, Fujimiya? I was so looking forward to dancing with him."

Aya didn't so much as push him away as sidestep out of his detestable embrace. Schuldig pouted prettily, circling slowly as he observed Aya, eyes narrowed.

"Oh, isn't that disgustingly sweet? You two have actually reconciled and are trying to work things out." He scrunched his nose at the thought and made a useless attempt to toss loose, wet strands of hair out of his face. "Ah well. I guess that's all right. I have my sights set elsewhere lately."

Aya kept his katana between them as he followed Schulding's movements and prepared for Schuldig to pull one of his wickedly fast disappearances, but Schuldig didn't seem to be in any hurry. No, Schuldig was playing, prodding Aya a bit, then backing off. Pawing at his prey.

_"I've set my sights elsewhere lately."_ He was baiting Aya, and Aya knew it, but Aya couldn't figure what Schuldig meant by that, and he didn't have a chance to think of it further as lightening struck again, thunder cracking immediately behind it, followed by a shout, and finally punctuated with a gun being fired.

Aya cringed, ducking for cover and whirling around to find Omi in the clearing between the two buildings, fighting the invisible force that was keeping the crossbow in his hand secured to his side. Omi was doing a valiant job against Nagi's talent, but was not having much success in his attempts to distract Farfarello from his assault on Ken. Ken, for his part, had clearly been taken by surprise; blood was dripping from a narrow cut on his arm and he was in the process of catching the flashing blade in his bugnuks to deflect a blow that would have meant a permanent facial scar.

Aya wasn't sure who Crawford was shooting at, and when he swung around to find out, Crawford was nowhere to be seen. Schuldig, on the other hand, was front and center, smiling sweetly.

"You know Aya, that sister of yours is getting prettier by the day. Gorgeous little thing. So petite, so innocent and naive, and what a beautiful smile."

Aya felt the chill freeze him in place.

"I couldn't help but notice her back when we had to kidnap her, but that was business, you know? Can't get distracted on a mission. But you know that, right?"

He winked slowly, and Aya felt like a rock had settled in the pit of his stomach.

"But now?" Schuldig continued, and Aya was only vaguely aware of Schuldig backing away, fading into the storm. "There's nothing to get between us now." Schuldig was nowhere to be seen now, and there was nothing to indicate that he had even lingered, until the whisper cut through Aya's thoughts like a spike.

"I was particularly tickled that she likes red-heads."

Yohji found Aya kneeling in the cold rain, head lowered to his knees, chest heaving in hyperventilation, one gloved fist flexing around the saya of his katana while the other was clenched closed against the ground.


	29. Weathering the Storm

a/n: No, I have NOT given up on this fic (or my others for that matter! I have been working and worrying over this chapter for a very long while. I hope some of you are still reading! Thank you for being patient.

Enjoy.

fire mystic

Weathering the Storm

Keeping up with Aya turned out to be an impossible task. The combination of the darkness and the weather were difficult enough to deal with, but even without them, Yohji had a feeling that Aya would have been impossible to track. Kneeling in the rain after his confrontation with Schuldig, Aya had taken control of his breathing, stood slowly, sheathed his katana, and turned one last purposeful gaze at Yohji before taking off into the elements. The resolve in that last expression, full of determination, hate, vengeance, and fear, was beyond anything Yohji had seen before in Aya, which, all things considered, filled him with dread.

In the end, Yohji had to rely on the first few minutes of pursuit to give him a pretty good idea that Aya was going back to the shop, otherwise he would have lost him. He wanted to keep up with him, and never gave up the chase, but he simply couldn't match the energy that had possessed Aya. By the time he reached the shop and made his way through the building, following the muffled thumping from upstairs, he finally caught up with Aya as the man finished pulling open drawers and throwing items onto the bed and was now furiously jamming them into a small travel bag. Then he began to pace.

Letting Aya work out the anger, Yohji watched, waited, and finally listened, finding out about the conversation he had narrowly missed and Schuldig's taunts. All the while, Aya relentlessly paced, watching his cell phone on the dresser with an intensity that was frightening. Yohji willed the phone to ring, knowing that was the only solution to Aya's anxiety.

"You really think he was just jerking me around?"

Aya didn't hesitate in his actions to ask the question, didn't deviate by even a step. Yohji stayed out of his path, leaning against the wall, knowing full well he wouldn't be able to sit still if he tried.

"He's a mind fucker, Aya. I wouldn't believe him if he said the ocean was wet without feeling it for myself."

"But it could be true."

"This is easy, Aya. One phone call will confirm or deny, and Manx will let you know. We just need to be patient."

It was ironic, Yohji thought, that it was so easy to say the words, to be reassuring, even while he was struggling with his own pain and concern. Aya had been faced with some harsh bites of reality tonight, from both enemies and allies, from being sent on a mission that was obviously faulted to begin with, to not having adequate back-up, to having to confront Schuldig on such nasty terms. And now having to worry about his sister. Yohji suspected that when the situation was resolved with Aya's sister, Aya would be doing some serious considering or reconsidering in terms of their relationship. That was simply the way Aya worked, and though Aya had come a long way, Yohji knew quite a bit of well-hidden fragility remained.

Yohji repeated it, the mantra that seemed to be the key to success with Aya: One step at a time. And the current step was getting him through this crisis with his sister, making sure she was safe, and that Schuldig couldn't touch her. And that wasn't going to happen until Manx returned Aya's phone call. Yohji just hoped Aya didn't implode before that happened.

Aya's pacing was picking up a frantic rhythm, fraying at the edges of Yohji's calmer demeanor until he finally could no longer stand by and watch. Gathering his resolve, Yohji pushed himself away from the wall, and placed himself squarely in Aya's path.

He guessed Aya might react in many different ways and was prepared for most of them. He expected Aya might step around him and keep pacing as if Yohji weren't there. He expected Aya might not even care to step around, and might simply push him out of the way. He was prepared for violence, though he wasn't looking forward to that possibility given Aya's state of agitation and his personal knowledge of Aya's capabilities.

Aya stopping short in front of him, taking a trembling breath and leaning forward to rest his forehead against Yohji's chest, however, was not at the top of the list of what Yohji had expected. And for the first time that evening, Aya wasn't moving, didn't even seem to be breathing. After the violent rage and then the pacing, the stillness was unnerving.

It was natural to reach out to Aya, to touch him, offer even that small comfort. It wasn't natural to have to check to make sure his hand wasn't trembling before he placed it on Aya's arm.

"I need to know," Aya spoke softly but raggedly, "that she's all right. That they can take care of her, defend her. That they haven't already fucked it up."

When Aya-chan had first been rescued, Aya had wanted to keep her close, but Manx had given him a good argument why that would be dangerous. And even if Aya hadn't bought the argument, Manx hadn't offered a choice. Aya-chan was being taken out of the country, whether Aya liked the plan or not, with Manx's word that Aya-chan would be well protected and watched out for.

Was it possible Manx and Kritiker had already failed? It would seem so if Schuldig had really gotten that close to Aya-chan, and if that were the case, it seems all the arguments Manx had made to keep Aya-chan at a distance were mute, in which case, Aya-chan would have been just as safe, if not safer, staying closer to home.

Yohji felt a slow-burning anger building in his gut at what Kritiker had done, how they had returned the one thing Aya lived for and then stripped him of all possible control over the situation.

And, if Yohji had learned nothing else, it was how much Aya valued control.

His hand had slid the length of Aya's arm and now rested at the crook of his neck, cradling his head, holding his forehead pressed to his chest, his own head bowed over Aya's till he could just barely feel the feather-light brush of Aya's hair on his face. They were still standing this way when the phone jangled a few seconds later, and Yohji felt the tension sing through Aya's body, tightening the muscles beneath Yohji's fingertips.

For a brief second, they remained as they were, Aya not moving, Yohji doing nothing to restrain or urge him to action. When they stepped apart, it was in unison, and while Yohji did nothing to stop Aya from reaching for the phone, he rested his hand on Aya's just before he picked it up, keeping Aya from answering until he said what he needed to say. He felt Aya's gaze on him, but kept his eyes locked on the hand he was touching.

"You and me, Aya." This was the only promise he could make, the only thing he could offer at this point that would make Aya understand that he was in this for the long haul. "Whatever needs to be done, this is what we do, what we're good at." He met Aya's gaze then. "If Kritiker has fucked this up, we will fix it."

And he meant it. Even if Aya decided that he couldn't do the personal relationship thing, that it would be too difficult to take the risk, Yohji would stand beside him in this, would see that it was made right.

"Yohji." There was a quality to Aya's voice Yohji didn't want to identify. He didn't want to know if it was disbelief or warning, or something else Aya held deep within.

"You and me, Aya. Whatever it takes." It was a promise he would keep, whatever Aya was thinking at the moment. And he needed Aya to know how serious he was.

Aya searched his eyes and face for a moment longer before picking up the phone.

"I want to know..."

And with just those few words, Yohji could hear, Manx cut him off, in a bit too shrill yet no nonsense tone. He couldn't quite make out the words, but he could guess that Manx had somehow gotten the word that the mission had gone south. Yohji watched as the tension built even further in Aya's shoulders, in the stiffening of his spine, in the set of his features, in the gathering whiteness of his knuckles gripping the phone. He stepped back a fraction, giving that tension room for action, but it didn't erupt physically.

It was very quiet when it came, very low key, and yet with Aya's soft-spoken words Manx was silenced and there was a new energy in the air.

"I don't care about the mission, Manx. It was a bust from the beginning, and you should have known that. What I care about, what I have always cared about, is my sister, and I heard a rumor that she may be in danger, and since you're the only connection I have to her, I need to know if there's any truth to that."

Still silence on the other end, and Yohji found he was holding his breath in anticipation of Manx's response. Whatever it was, it was quiet enough that he couldn't catch it, but Aya's answer made it clear enough.

"I'll be waiting."

* * *

It didn't take even an hour for Manx to get back to Aya, with a full report over the phone, which she promised to follow up with pictures and a written report. Schuldig had indeed been seen in the city where Aya-chan was located, but there was no indication he had any contact with her. In fact, if it hadn't been for Aya's call, Schuldig's close proximity to Aya-chan might have gone completely unnoticed. They were still working on finding out exactly what he was doing there, but they were relatively sure Aya-chan was safe.

As if all these slips in security would be good enough for Aya.

"I want her back in Japan."

It was the first he had spoken since he had said hello in answering the phone, and Yohji gave up his attempt at a nap while leaning back on Aya's bed to turn his head, watch Aya, and see what more he could figure out from the one side he could hear of the conversation.

"I don't care, Manx. You sent her away thinking she'd be safer, but Schuldig managed to find her. If he can find her, anyone can." A pause, and then "Do you really think it was just coincidence?" Another pause and "I didn't think so."

The conversation carried on for a few minutes, and when all was said and done, Aya hung up the phone looking tired and worried. Between the mission gone awry and the potential danger to his sister and lack of sleep, his exhaustion was beginning to tell.

"I'm going to take a shower." He stripped his clothes and headed out the door without a word and Yohji could hear the water running in the shower. When he returned, a towel slung low on his hips, Yohji followed suit, realizing how long it had been since the whole miserable night had begun, and the two of them had spent this entire time in their mission clothes, which had been drenched.

From the shower, he went to his room to put on dry clothes, old jeans and a comfortable shirt, which he left unbuttoned, and then back to Aya's room, wanting to hear what he had missed from Aya's conversation with Manx, and wanting simply to be there. As much as he had been trying to respect Aya's need for privacy and space, he had a nagging feeling that now was not the time for that, that he needed to stay close and be prepared for anything.

Aya was sitting in his chair, also wearing a pair of old jeans, but his shirt was buttoned up and neatly tucked, and he was curled up in that cat-like way he had, staring out the window. Yohji took a seat on the edge of the bed, which Aya had cleared off. There was no sign of the bag he had packed earlier.

"Omi and Ken are back. They came in a few minutes ago. Omi's going to take care of following up on the mission's failure with Manx."

"Are they okay?"

"A couple of cuts and bruises, but they're fine." Aya swept that part of the conversation away with his hand, still staring out the window at the darkness.

"Did you mean it?"

The change of topic was sudden, but Yohji knew exactly what Aya was talking about.

"Yes."

"You know what that could have meant, right?"

Yohji's shoulders rolling in a casual shrug belied the seriousness of the topic.

"It would have meant going against orders. Breaking from Kritiker, working outside their directive. Going rogue."

Aya turned to study him with that intensity that only Aya seemed to possess.

"And you would have done that? For me?"

And here was the moment, Yohji knew. It was his answer that Aya was waiting for, that would tip the balance of whatever Aya was thinking, and no matter what Yohji said or how he tried to explain it, it would be either the best or the worst thing he would say.

Best to stick to the truth, which was short and simple.

"Yes."

There was no visible reaction from Aya. He held Yohji in that intense stare and then turned away as if Yohji's answer meant nothing.

"Manx is going to try to talk Kritiker into bringing Aya-chan back to Japan. I think she was a little unnerved by the fact that Schuldig got that close to her without Kritiker noticing, and I think she realizes that I won't do my best for Weiss if I'm always worrying about Aya-chan. I think she'll make it happen." He paused fractionally. "I think she knows what's at stake."

Of course she did, Yohji thought. From the beginning, Aya prime motivation had been revenge and to save his sister. Now it was to keep his sister safe, and if Kritiker couldn't do that, it would be the one thing that would cause them to lose Aya's cooperation.

And that would be bad for everyone involved. Manx would be aware of that, and what the consequences would be. At least Manx was trying to work it out, find a resolution that would work for all involved. Crisis averted, right?

But Aya was thinking too hard. Yohji could see it in his expression, and while a part of him wanted to simply blurt out his concerns, another part of him knew it would do no good, and as with everything else, Aya had to deal with whatever his thoughts were in his own time. So Yohji did what he did best lately. He tried to give Aya exactly what he needed.

"You look tired, Aya, and I'm completely beat. Think we should try to get some sleep?"

Aya let the idea seep in and slowly nodded his head as he uncurled his body from the chair. He was already unbuttoning his shirt as he got up, neatly folding it over the back of the chair. He slowed as he got to the button and zipper on his jeans, glancing at Yohji curiously.

"What's wrong?" He halted in his motions. "You're staying, aren't you?"

Until then, Yohji hadn't been sure if it would be better to stay, or better to let Aya think on his own terms. But if Aya was issuing the invitation, he wasn't going to say no. And though he was grateful that Aya wanted him to stay, he noticed that it was a long time before Aya finally drifted into a fitful sleep.


End file.
